Star Trek: Orion III - Resistance
by HighKnighthood
Summary: When Captain Lindsey Lander requested that the Orion be pulled off Neutral Zone duty, a trip deep into Romulan space was not what she had in mind. But when the Romulans claim the Borg have invaded their territory, the Orion is sent as part of a fleet under the command of the one Starfleet officer best equipped for the task: Admiral Kathryn Janeway. Also featuring Seven of Nine.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: The following story takes place approximately four years after the series _Star Trek: Voyager_ and two years after the movie _Star Trek: Nemesis_. The canon I use is only comprised of the _Star Trek_ movies and television series; thus, this story may not be consistent with any _Star Trek_ novels. However, I did take the political situation of Romulus following _Star Trek: Nemesis_ from the novel _Star Trek: Titan; Taking Wing_.

* * *

 **Star Trek: Orion III**

 **Resistance**

 _The United Federation of Planets: an organization based on the core belief that different species from different planets can benefit from each other and co-operate for the betterment of the whole._

 _But not every species readily accepts this core belief. Some seek isolation; others seek domination. One seeks assimilation._

 _This is an adventure of the starship_ Orion _. It's current mission: patrolling the Romulan Neutral Zone and guarding against any potential Romulan threats. But once the Romulan Star Empire becomes threaten by an even more dangerous enemy, the_ Orion _must cross into Romulan space to deal with this new menace._

In Romulan Space

 _Imperial Warbird log; Imperial date, 204 of the second year of the praetorship of Tal'Aura: We continue our patrols on the Delta Quadrant side of our territory. There is little activity on this side of our borders as the Federation and the Klingons are mostly present at other areas, but we do not take comfort in this assignment. If there is anyone attempting to illegally enter our space, the_ Terabon _will challenge them._

Sub-Commander Val'Lindra sat calmly in her captain's chair. She moved her hands across the arms of the chair, feeling the worn edges of her command seat. The chair was a reminder of all the service the _Terabon_ had given to Empire; all the battles against the Dominion, all the years of guarding against the Klingons and the Federation. It was also a reminder to Val'Lindra of the responsibly and the honor given to her by Commander Donatra, leader of the Romulan Military.

On the other hand, the _Terabon_ was hardly the finest ship in the fleet. She had been crippled in the Dominion War by the Breen's special energy weapon. She had been patched back together and put into service at the end of the war only because there were too few ships in the fleet. The short but disastrous praetorship of Shinzon, only made the need for warships worse. But Val'Lindra didn't let this bother her. She was the captain of an imperial warbird, and that alone was no small matter.

Nor did she let it bother her that she was given the most boring, out of the way assignment possible. The odds of a Federation or Klingon ship passing through her patrol area was slim to none. In fact, very few ships passed through here at all. Most officers in the Romulan fleet would consider this to be a career ender, but Val'Lindra saw it as an opportunity. She was determined to prove to Donatra that she had what it takes to be a commander in the Romulan military.

That included running a tight ship. "Helmsman! Stay alert! I will not have my bridge crew falling asleep on the job."

"Yes, Sub-Commander," answered the helmsman. The man had not really fallen asleep, but Val'Lindra liked to keep her crew on their toes. The job may be boring, but that was no excuse for becoming laxed. Val'Lindra was aware that many of her crewmembers did not appreciate her stronghanded style of leadership. However, Val'Lindra did not need them to like her; she just needed them to obey her.

"Sub-Commander," spoke Val'Lindra's first officer. "Here is today's engineering report."

"Thank you, Centurion Trindak," Val'Lindra frowned as she looked at the report. "We are still projected to underperform at warp. Why hasn't the drain on our energy been resolved?"

"There is still a noticeable amount of energy required for structural integrity. The _Terabon's_ hull is just not as strong as it used to be," answer Trindak.

"Don't make excuses for them, Centurion! Tell the engineers that I want power levels to our warp engines to be at peak parameters by the end of the week."

"Sub-Commander, I am not sure that is possible."

"My orders stand, Centurion."

"Yes, Sub-Commander, it will be done," replied her defeated first officer. Val'Lindra didn't believe him for a minute. How could Donatra expect her to run a warbird with such an incompetent crew? Val'Lindra vowed to shape this ship and its crew into the finest in the fleet, even if she had to do so by the sheer strength of her will.

"Sub-Commander, we have something on sensors," said the female sub-lieutenant at the sensor post. "It appears to be a vessel, bearing 136 mark 34."

"Are we in range?"

"No, Sub-Commander."

"Helm lay in an intercept course and proceed at warp 6."

"Yes, sir." The warbird adjusted course and accelerated, as Val'Lindra felt her heart beat faster. It was probably just some smuggler, but perhaps Val'Lindra would be able to impound its cargo. Perhaps, also, the smugglers would put up a fight, and word of the _Terabon's_ victory would travel to Donatra. Val'Lindra smiled at the thought of her name appearing in the Commander's daily briefing.

"Shall we cloak, Sub-Commander?" asked Trindak.

"No, we are in our own space. I will not hide. I want them to see us. Sub-Lieutenant, are the sensors clearer?"

"Almost, Sub-Commander. I should be able to see its size and shape in a few seconds." The young woman stared intently at her screen. Val'Lindra was about to order the woman to report when the sub-lieutenant gasped. "By the gods!"

"What? Speak, crewman."

"It's huge! Twenty-eight kilometers!"

"Twenty-eight kilometers long?"

"Long, tall, and wide." The sub-lieutenant looked up at Val'Lindra trembling. "It's a perfect cube."

"The vessel is matching our intercept course, and is approaching at warp 9," said the helmsman with a quiver in his voice. "Time for intercept: thirty seconds."

"Drop out of warp. Put it on the screen." Val'Lindra stood in front of her chair. There was some slight shaking in her legs as she looked at the viewscreen. "No, it can't be." A large cube filled the viewscreen. "It can't be!"

"Vessel is approaching. Now within weapons' range!" shouted the helmsman.

"Sub-Commander, what are your orders? Sub-Commander!" shouted Trindak.

Val'Lindra heard her first officer, but she wasn't processing his words. "They can't be here." Val'Lindra sank back in her chair. All delusions of grandeur were gone. In their place was a petrifying fear.

"Enemy vessel has locked on to us with a tractor beam. What do we do?" panicked the helmsman.

"Orders, Sub-Commander! What are our orders?!" shouted Trindak.

"No, no, no!" screamed Val'Lindra.

"They're hailing."

The chilling collective voice of nightmares boomed through the bridge's audio system. "We are Borg. Existence as you know it is over."

"Rotate shield modulations! Break that tractor beam!" ordered Trindak.

"No effect, Centurion!" replied the helmsman.

"We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service ours."

"Activate cloaking device," cried Trindak.

"Inoperable, sir. The tractor beam is still weakening our shields."

"Sub-Commander! We need you!" shouted Trindak.

"Make them go away!" cried Val'Lindra as she pulled her knees to her chest like frighten child.

"Resistance is futile."

* * *

Chapter 1

 _Captain's log; stardate 58073.5: Life on the_ Orion _is business as usual. Patrolling the Romulan Neutral Zone has been uneventful these past two years._

 _The past month, however, has been particularly busy. I have recently begun speaking with Starfleet Command; insisting on a change of assignment for the_ Orion _and its crew. I have also been preparing the_ Orion _for a switch to a less military role. The most significant change was improving our science department, including the recruitment of a new chief science officer. I hope to show Starfleet that the_ Orion _is ready for any exploratory or scientific work they may have for us._

 _In the midst of this my first officer has been insisting that I need a vacation. He has finally prevailed upon me._

Lindsey finished her chapter and set the data pad on the small table next to her beach chair. She took in a deep breath of the perfectly controlled Risian air. The sound of gentle waves crashing against the shore created a relaxing atmosphere. Lindsey, wearing a modest one-piece bathing suit, stretched out her bare legs. An umbrella shaded her face, but the warmth of the sun on her legs seemed to fill her whole body. Perhaps Henry was right, maybe she really did need this vacation. She needed a break from all the pressures of command; a break from the tension filled space around the Neutral Zone.

Risa was completely different from anything that was near the Neutral Zone. There were inhabited planets and moons on the Romulan-Federation border, but they were all preoccupied by the politics that occurred between two of the largest Alpha Quadrant powers. Risa on the other hand was carefree. The local populace of this planet seemed to enjoy their perfect world. If there was any anxiety in them at all, it was in making sure that their guests enjoyed themselves as well.

Lindsey was just pondering that reality, when a Risian male approached her chair. "Hello, honored guest, how have you enjoyed your visit to Risa?"

"Quite nice. I needed a break from work."

The man sat on the ground next to Lindsey. "My name is Mikcal. Is there anything that I can do for you this morning. All that is mine is yours."

Lindsey recognized the Risian slogan. She did not doubt that this Mikcal truly wished for her to enjoy herself, but she also suspected that he was looking for his own enjoyment. Her pleasure would be his pleasure.

"The sun, the beach, and the carefree atmosphere is all I need for now."

Mikcal smiled. "I am glad that you are enjoying our world. I did not catch your name."

Lindsey began to wonder if someone had left a horgon lying next to her or some other sign that she wanted to this man's attention. "My name is Lindsey Lander."

"Where do you work, Lindsey?"

"Starfleet."

"Are you an officer?" inquired the Risian.

"Yes."

"I didn't know there was a ship in orbit."

"There isn't. I hopped a ride with a honeymooning couple."

"What ship do you serve on?"

"The USS _Orion_."

"I've never heard of it."

Lindsey smiled. A couple of years ago Mikcal's answered wouldn't have surprised her. The _Orion_ had been an obscure ship, until it had a fateful encounter with a rogue Romulan warbird. Perhaps the _Orion_ was returning to obscurity. Lindsey could live with that.

"What are you reading, if I may ask?" tried the Risian man.

"A novel about a young man, the son of a Starfleet officer."

"Who is the author?"

"Jacob Sisko."

"Ah ha," said Mikcal, but there was no recognition in his voice. Lindsey suspected that Mikcal was quite unaware of the world outside of Risa.

Lindsey was just thinking of a way to get rid of this man, when he asked, "So how is life on board the… _Orion_ was it? Are the superior officers difficult? How about the captain?"

"The captain?" Lindsey looked at Mikcal to see if he knew. "Why do you ask about the captain?"

"A lot of Starfleet officers like to blow off steam when they come to Risa, especially about their captains."

"Is that so?" asked Lindsey as she sat upright in her reclined chair.

"Yes," said Mikcal, who seemed excited to finally have Lindsey's attention. "What kind of person is he? Noble, wise; demanding, harsh?"

"I don't know about noble or wise, but she has to be demanding. She is the captain after all," answered Lindsey. "She tries to avoid being harsh. But she is young and inexperienced. She has a lot to learn about commanding a starship."

"Does the crew resent her youth?"

"I don't think so. She trusts them, and they trust her. At least I hope they do."

"You really like your captain, don't you?" asked Mikcal.

"Mikcal, I am…"

"Excuse me, Captain Lander," said the approaching Risian woman. "I am sorry to interrupt. I have a call for you from a Lieutenant Commander Hickensen."

Lindsey swung her legs to the ground, transitioning from Risian vacationer to the captain of a starship. "What does Cmdr. Hickensen have to say?"

"He wouldn't tell me. He says that it is a top priority message. 'For the captain's ears only', he says. We have a communications terminal in our visitor's center, which you can use to encrypt your communications."

"Thank you, Arandis. I know the way."

"All that is ours is yours," said Arandis with a slight bow.

Lindsey grabbed her bag and proceeded to the visitor's center. As she left, she strained her ears and smiled as she heard Mikcal say to Arandis in a questioning voice, "Captain?"

Lindsey made her way to the visitor's center. Once there a local Risian showed her the terminal. Lindsey made an attempt to straighten her uniform only to remember that she was wearing a bathing suit. She entered her encryption code and tapped the screen. On the screen appeared her first officer Lt. Cmdr. Henry Hickensen seated in her captain's ready room, just off the _Orion's_ command bridge. "Commander, what is so important that you needed to interrupt my vacation? A vacation which you insisted on."

"Sorry, Captain," said Henry with a somber tone. "Starfleet Command just put the entire sector on yellow alert."

"Yellow alert! Why?"

"They are not telling us," said Henry. "And it gets worse. All shore leaves have been canceled."

"Canceled! Is Starfleet Command aware that this is my first shore leave in two years?" said Lindsey "Forget that, are they aware that they are interrupting Frank and Alivia's honeymoon?"

"Whether or not they are aware of that, returning to the _Orion_ is their order."

"Well, at least I have a few more days while you send a shuttle," said Lindsey.

"Ah…that is not exactly true," replied Henry.

"What did you do?" demanded Lindsey.

"A shuttle seemed too slow," said Henry. "So, I dispatched the stardrive."

"You broke my ship in two?!"

"Starfleet wants the _Orion's_ captain back on her ship ASAP," replied Henry.

"So, you choose to leave the _Orion's_ saucer without warp drive during a yellow alert?"

"Capt. Benteen and the _Lakota_ are here. If the need arises, they can tow us."

"Fine," said Lindsey in a defeated voice. "How long do I have?"

"The stardrive left an hour ago. It should arrive at Risa in about three hours. I really am sorry to interrupt your vacation."

"I am more upset that I have to interrupt Frank and Alivia's honeymoon." Lindsey sighed. "Best get it over with now. Anything else, Commander?"

"No, Captain."

"Lander, out." Henry's image faded, leaving Lindsey by herself. She took a moment to take it in. The entire sector on the Romulan border going to yellow alert! It felt like a bad omen. What was happening on Romulus that would prompt this? None of the possibilities that entered Lindsey's mind were good. The quicker she could get her ship off Neutral Zone duty the better.

But Lindsey had a more immediate task at hand.

* * *

Alivia woke to new sensation, but one that was happily becoming more familiar; the sensation of her husband's lips on her check. "Wake up, dear. We can't enjoy the Risian reefs if we sleep the morning away."

Alivia turned and kissed her husband on the lips. "I'm awake." Alivia grabbed the robe that her husband handed her. After she put it on, she kissed him again. Alivia's husband, Lt. Cmdr. Ulysses Francis Grant, known by his friends as Frank, was the chief of security on board the _Orion_. Lt. Cmdr. Alivia O'Hara, or O'Hara-Grant as she had officially changed her name, was the _Orion's_ chief engineer.

When Alivia had first come on board the _Orion,_ she had been uncomfortable. As a department head, Alivia had tried to keep professional distance between herself and other crewmembers. In addition, Alivia had always found it difficult to interact socially with others. But the crew of the _Orion_ and Frank in particular had broken down the walls that she had created.

If being social was hard, dating for Alivia was even harder, given the stereotypes surrounding her species. Although Alivia was raised in Ireland, she was not human. She was actually a green skinned Orion woman. She had always feared the stereotype of Orion women as slave girls would hinder any dating relationships she might try. But Frank was a man who saw deeper than the surface. He genuinely respected her in every way. What had started about two years ago as an experimental relationship, had turned into a deep and affectionate friendship, and now was on its way to becoming a loving marriage. Capt. Lander had performed the ceremony only six days ago, and now Alivia, alongside her husband, was enjoying the best days of her life. She would have never expected this two years ago.

"Our snorkeling guide will be ready for us soon," said Frank as Alivia was in the bathroom readying herself for the day. Frank came alongside her and began to brush his teeth. Alivia looked at him for a moment. It still surprised her that he was her husband. It was the little things that caught her off guard; things like brushing their teeth side by side.

Frank rinsed out his mouth and caught Alivia staring. "What? Do I have toothpaste on my chin?"

"No. Well, actually you do." Alivia wiped his face with a towel. "I am just amazed at my great fortune in being married to you."

"The fortune is mine," Grant kissed her, and Alivia could smell the mint of his toothpaste.

There was a chime at the door. "I'll get it," said Alivia. She tied the belt of her robe a bit tighter and walked to the door.

Alivia was caught off guard when she saw who was on the other side of the door. "Captain! What a surprise!" Alivia was suddenly embarrassed to be standing before her captain in nothing but a bath robe.

"At ease, Commander," said Capt. Lander with a smile. "We are on vacation. A little informality is good for you and me." Alivia then noticed that Capt. Lander was only wearing a modest one-piece bathing suit. "Is Frank here?"

"Yes, Captain, I'm here," answered Frank as he emerged from the bathroom. "What a pleasant surprise."

Lander's smile faded a bit. "Actually, this is not a pleasant surprise. I told you that I wouldn't interrupt your honeymoon, but I have been forced to do so."

"Don't worry about a little interruption, Captain," said Alivia. "Frank and I were actually talking about inviting you for dinner later this evening."

"Unfortunately, that will not be possible," said the Captain. "I am not just interrupting your honeymoon, I'm canceling it. Starfleet Command has put the entire sector on yellow alert and canceled all shore leave; including yours and mine."

"Oh," said Alivia disappointedly. She sat down on a couch.

"I am so sorry," said Lander.

Frank sat down beside his wife and put his arm around her. "It's alright, Captain. It's not your fault. The honeymoon might be interrupted, but the marriage is still on." Frank squeezed Alivia tight, and she lay her head on his shoulder. "When do we have to leave?"

"The _Orion's_ stardrive should be arriving at 1300 hours."

Both Frank and Alivia sat straight up. Frank's mode completely changed as his instincts as a security officer kicked in. "The stardrive! What kind of circumstances would cause such urgency?"

"I don't know," answered Capt. Lander, and the look of concern on her face was clear. Like the Captain, Alivia dreaded what this turn of events might mean. However, the Captain shrugged it off. "Whatever it is, we will deal with it as we always have. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to pack and change into my uniform." Lander extended her hands down to indicate her bathing suit.

"We'll do the same," replied Frank. Capt. Lander then left the room with a slight bow of her head.

"What could this be about?" asked Alivia.

"I don't know," said Frank. "But what I do know is that we don't have to worry about it until 1300 hours."

"I see," said Alivia. "And what do you think we shall worry about until then?"

"How about nothing?"

"Sounds good to me." Alivia and her husband exchanged another kiss, and then set to the task of packing their things. Alivia pulled her yellow Starfleet uniform out of a drawer and laid it on the bed. "Huh!"

"What?"

"Just looking at my uniform and remembering how I used to be the uniform; all formal and business like. If I would have remained purely that way, I would have never made so many friends, or been married to you."

"I, for one, am glad you broke out of your shell," said Frank. "It is not easy for a Starfleet officer to balance personal and professional life."

"I learned from the best: you, Cmdr. Hickensen, Selina and Johnathan, even from the Captain." Alivia paused as she thought of Capt. Lander. Despite being a few years older than her captain, Alivia had found in Lander a role model of leadership. She admired the woman. "I wonder if the Captain has ever thought about dating anyone."

Frank laughed out loud which surprised and even startled Alivia. She asked, "What? Why are you laughing?"

"Oh, it's uh…It's just that you haven't known the Captain as long as I have."

"What do you mean?"

"You know that I served on the old _Orion_ prior to Lindsey's arrival?"

"Yes," said Alivia. She noted that Frank was addressing the Captain by her first name.

"When she came on board, she had a reputation. One that she proved true in her first year on board."

"What kind of reputation?"

"As a flirt."

"A flirt!? The Captain!?" Alivia couldn't imagine it.

"Indeed. In her first three months she dated and broke up with four different guys and was working on a fifth."

"I don't believe it." Alivia truly didn't believe it. The Lindsey Lander she knew was a friendly, stable, duty focused woman. She could not imagine her captain running around with all these different men.

"You knew that she dated our first officer at the Academy, didn't you?" said Frank.

"I had gathered that." Alivia recalled Lt. Cmdr. Henry Hickensen once hinting at the relation. "What changed?"

"Capt. Taylor ordered her to go on a dating fast. She wasn't allowed to date any man either on or off the ship."

"What? Can a captain do that? Isn't that interfering in an officer's personal life?"

"Technically, no, a captain cannot give such an order. But when you are on a starship, the captain's word is the law. Unless you want to submit an appeal, which may not succeed and puts you on the bad side of the captain. Lindsey decided to submit to the forced celibacy, rather than fight with Capt. Taylor. Lindsey once told me it was the best thing she had ever done."

"Why would she say that?"

"Because, as she told me, she stopped looking at her male crewmates as possible boyfriends and her female crewmates as competition. She was able to see them as coworkers and even begin to form genuine friendships. Lindsey transformed from the ship's playgirl into everyone's friend. She became the glue of the ship. That's why when Capt. Taylor and the senior staff were killed, Lindsey was able to take command of the _Orion_. Everyone already loved her, trusted her, and were willing to follow and support her."

"Wow, I had no idea." Alivia paused. "It would have been something to see her first take command of the _Orion._ " Frank cringed, and Alivia apologized immediately. "I'm sorry. I know a lot of your friends were killed in those days. I didn't mean to remind you of all that pain."

"Don't worry. It is good to remember those we've lost. And it was amazing to see Lindsey step up and take command."

"How long did she have to keep the dating fast?"

"Capt. Taylor required it for a year, but I happen to know that she maintained it for many years afterward. To the best of my knowledge she is still living that fast."

"Wow, that takes…Wait! How do you know that she continued the fast for so long?"

Frank nervously scratched his head. "At one time, I was inquiring."

"Inquiring?" Alivia felt, for the first time in her life, a hint of jealousy.

"I was considering asking her out."

"You were going to ask out the Captain?!"

"She wasn't the captain at that time. We were both middle level officers."

"Why didn't you ask her?"

"I was nervous," said Frank. "I kept putting it off, and I simply waited too long. Next thing I knew, the _Orion_ was attacked, and Lindsey was the captain. But I learned a very important lesson."

"What was that?" asked Alivia.

"When something good comes your way, don't hesitate." Frank reached out and held Alivia, "A missed opportunity with Lindsey lead me straight to you, and I couldn't be happier."

Despite herself Alivia melted into Frank's arms. "I hope you will forgive me, but I'm really glad you and the Captain never got together."

Frank simply laughed. "You are forgiven."

"I do feel a bit bad for the Captain. Now that she is a captain, she is practically untouchable, at least by anyone in Starfleet. She can't fraternize with a sub-ordinate." Alivia rose out of Frank's arms with slight alarm. "She's all alone."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," responded Frank mysteriously.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, I said nothing."

"It didn't sound like nothing." Alivia pushed. "You know the Captain better than most on the ship. You know something."

"I don't know anything." Alivia stared at Frank until he spoke further. "I suspect something."

"What? I'm your wife. You can tell me anything."

"Our first couple months on the new _Orion_ Lindsey shut herself off from the crew. And, although I don't know him as well, Lt. Cmdr. Hickensen seemed subtly…miserable. But after Lindsey's kidnapping and return, both of them seemed much happier."

"We were all happier. The Captain had returned to us."

"But that happiness continues, even to today."

"What are you saying. Cmdr. Hickensen and the Captain…?"

"I am not saying anything," said Frank emphatically. "I am just observing."

"But if that's true, then they are breaking Starfleet regulations."

"That is why we don't talk about this with anyone," said Frank. "We don't need to start rumors based upon suspicion."

"I understand," but Alivia was already looking at her captain in a new light.

* * *

Kathryn Janeway straighten her uniform as she stood outside the door. She was not used to being summoned. She had become accustomed to being at the top of the ranks. For seven years, as captain of _Voyager_ , she had been the highest ranking Starfleet officer in the Delta Quadrant. Then, shortly after she was able to bring _Voyager_ home, she was promoted to the rank of Vice-Admiral.

But today she had been summoned to a meeting of admirals. Janeway made a final adjustment to her hair and reminded herself that she was an equal in this room.

The doors slide open, and Admiral Janeway entered the room. There were about a dozen other admirals in room, most of them Janeway recognized. She saw Adm. Owen Paris, father of Janeway's former helmsman Tom Paris. He had also been the leader of _Project Pathfinder_ which aided _Voyager's_ return. Also, there was Adm. William Ross and Adm. Leonard James Akaar. Janeway walked to the center of the room, addressed the assembly, "Admirals," and proceeded to the chair set up for her.

"Welcome, Adm. Janeway," spoke Adm. Ross. "Sorry to take you away from your classes at the Academy."

"That's perfectly alright, William. But you do have me at a loss in regard to the nature of this meeting," said Janeway. "What is it that drags me out of academia?"

Adm. Ross' face fell a bit. "We received a very disturbing transmission from Romulus."

"Romulus?" asked Janeway. In her Starfleet career Janeway had almost no contact with the Romulans. In fact, of all the admirals in the room, Janeway probably had almost the least amount of experience with Romulans. She, after all, had spent the entirety the Dominion War, in which the Federation and Romulus were allies, lost in the Delta Quadrant. "Why call me in for a Romulan issue?"

"It has to do with the content of the message we received," said Adm. Ross.

"Two messages in fact," added Adm. Akaar. "One from the Romulan Praetor, Tal'Aura; and another from Commander Donatra, leader of the Romulan military."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," spoke Janeway. "Are not those two political revivals?"

"Most certainly," said Akaar, who had actually been to Romulus about two years ago with the _Titan_ and had met both the afore mentioned Romulan women. "The fact that both them sent us the same urgent message is enough to alarm us."

"Urgent message?" asked Janeway. The looks on the faces of the different admirals underscored that urgency.

"Urgent," repeated Ross. "Commander Donatra's message contained more useful information. Allow us to play a video that Donatra attached to her message."

Janeway gave Ross a nod of permission then turned her chair towards the viewscreen. The screen revealed the bridge of a Romulan starship. The bridge crew was in a clear state of panic. Speaking to the screen was a Romulan male.

"This is Centurion Trindak of the Imperial Romulan Warbird _Terabon_. We are under attack by a Borg cube. They have us in a tractor beam. Our shields are down. Here is the cube that is attacking us." The screen switched to the image of the attacking vessel. Janeway's heart skipped a beat, as horrible memories threaten to cloud her mind. Such was the effect of seeing a Borg cube, even though it was recorded many lightyears away. "Their vessel is massive. Our weapons are barely doing any damage…"

A female voice shouted in the background. "We're being boarded."

Trindak appeared again on screen. "We have Borg drones on the ship." In the background Janeway saw a drone materialize in the telltale green glow of a Borg transporter. Trindak saw it as well. "Romulus, if you are receiving this, the Borg have entered our space with hostile intent. You must prepare the Empire for invasion." Trindak then turned and attacked the Borg drone behind him. He beat the drone with a two-handed overhead blow, but a second drone grabbed him from off screen and pulled him down.

Janeway was about to look away, when the screen turned black. "The rest of this video is disturbing and contains little of importance," said Ross. "Your thoughts, Kathryn."

"Nothing good can come from the Borg in Romulan space," spoke Janeway in her ominous tone. "The Borg have no concept of neutral zones or treaties. If the Romulan Star Empire is assimilated, the Federation will be next."

Ross was nodding his head in agreement. "The Romulans know this as well. That is why they are appealing to us for help. Both Tal'Aura and Donatra have argued the mutual interest point. In addition, Tal'Aura has cited the Alpha Quadrant Alliance, while Donatra is reminding us of her role in stopping Shinzon's attack on Earth."

"The Alpha Quadrant Alliance?" asked Janeway. "That alliance was against the Dominion, not the Borg."

Akaar answered this question, "Tal'Aura argues the Alliance is against foreign invaders; the Dominion from the Gamma Quadrant, the Borg from the Delta Quadrant. Either one threatens both the Romulan Empire and the Federation."

"Well, she's not wrong," said Janeway. "What do they want us to do?"

"They want us to send ships and experts," said Adm. Paris. "They know that we have far more experience with Borg than they do."

"Let me get this straight. They want Federation starships in Romulan space?!" Janeway didn't know much about the Romulans, but this she knew was highly unusual.

"Yes," said Ross. "And we want you to lead the fleet. Three starships and your choice of scientists and Borg experts."

Without hesitation Janeway said, "I want _Voyager_."

"Impossible," said Ross with equal lack of hesitation.

Now it was Janeway's time to assert herself. She had let the other admirals control the meeting, but she was not going to be ordered around so easily. "I won't do this without _Voyager_. She is simply the best ship in the fleet to deal with the Borg. All of us here are aware of the technology that my future counterpart gave to us back in the Delta Quadrant. Technology which was specifically designed to beat the Borg. Ablative armor that can handle Borg weaponry, and transphasic torpedoes which some of you saw decimate a Borg sphere. We need this technology."

"We are still studying the technology that you brought back with you on _Voyager_ ," said Ross. "And Starfleet Command has decided to withhold that technology in order to avoid giving it to our enemies or allowing the Borg to adapt to it. _Voyager_ will not be sent."

Janeway wasn't quite done yet, "The entire Alpha Quadrant is aware of _Voyager's_ return. Some of you were there. Owen, you saw it." Janeway pointed at Adm. Paris. "If the Romulan intelligence agency, the Tal Shiar, is half as good as I've heard, then they will be aware that _Voyager_ had advance weaponry that day. If I go without that weaponry, the Romulans will doubt our intent."

Adm. Paris responded kindly yet firmly, "Kathryn, has it occurred to you that by bringing our best weaponry we will be playing right into the Romulans' plan. We would be sending starships with our most powerful technology deep into Romulan space. And reinforcements will be lightyears away."

"You think that the Romulans are faking this whole thing?" ask Janeway. "It must be quite the trickery. That video looked very real. And I have been up close and personal with the Borg more times than most."

"It is a definite possibility," said Ross. "I have personally witnessed a lot of Romulan trickery. We will want you and whatever experts you can find to analyze the evidence, while preparing your fleet."

"But if the Borg are really there; we will have only three starships against a cube," said Janeway. "I don't like those odds."

"All ships will be armed with our best pre- _Voyager_ weaponry including quantum torpedoes, which were designed to combat the Borg." Adm. Ross continued, "Also, we will have two _Defiant_ class ships on the Neutral Zone. They will be available to join your fleet as soon as you confirm the presence of the Borg or report a Romulan trap."

"Alright, no _Voyager_ ," Janeway begrudgingly conceded. "What about the _Enterprise_? Having Capt. Jean-Luc Picard as an expert on both the Borg and the Romulans would be invaluable. And several members of his crew are equally experienced."

"Agreed," said Akaar. "But unfortunately, neither the _Enterprise_ nor its captain are available. Time is short. We have to work with whatever ships are available."

"You have time to deploy two _Defiant_ class ships, but not the _Enterprise_?" countered Janeway.

"The _Resistant_ and the _Courageous_ are part of the Earth defense fleet. We will be leaving ourselves a bit short handed here," replied Paris.

"So, all I have to work with are ships near Earth or near Romulan space." Janeway was annoyed. She was being asked to do all this but was being denied all her requests. As she was preparing to respond her eyes caught a single word on the viewscreen. The display was of the Neutral Zone and all of Starfleet's assets positioned there. "Is the _Orion_ still on the Neutral Zone?" Janeway had been the one to convinced Starfleet to reuse the name Orion and send the ship to the Neutral Zone. They must have really liked her idea, seeing that the _Orion_ was still on patrol there.

Adm. Paris, with a bit of confusion answered her question. "It appears so. Do you want the _Orion_?"

"Why not?" responded Janeway. "It is a new _Galaxy_ class ship. It has been operating for two years now, enough time for the engineers to complete its initial shakedown and to have found any construction flaws. And its crew have already seen some combat."

Ross spoke, "I have the greatest respect for the _Orion's_ captain as a dutiful and principled Starfleet officer. But she and her senior staff are young and inexperienced. I am afraid they will be unprepared for such assignment."

"Let me worry about that," replied Janeway as she began to build her fleet in her mind. "There are a few other things and personnel that I will require. If time is as critical as you say, I suggest we begin right away."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 _Captain's log; supplemental: So much for my vacation. Cmdrs. Grant, O'Hara-Grant, and I have boarded the stardrive portion of the_ Orion _and are approaching the rest of our ship near the Romulan Neutral Zone._

 _I can't help but feel anxious about this yellow alert. The Romulan Empire is still unstable since Shinzon's coup. But, yellow alert or not, I have a ship to run._

Lindsey sat in the battle bridge's captain's chair. It was less comfortable than her chair on the main bridge, but she had specifically asked that it not be customized to her. If she had to command the ship from here, then circumstances were already uncomfortable.

The bridge door opened, and Frank walked in. "Lt. Cmdr. Grant reporting for duty."

Lindsey turned to face her friend who was also her chief of security. "Frank, Starfleet may have called off your leave, but I still consider you on vacation. You may not have Risa, but you are still on your honeymoon. Enjoy it however you can."

"What do you suggest, Captain?"

"I suggest you ask your wife. But if you want my advice, maybe you should prepare your quarters. Or did you and Alivia change your mind about your new living arrangement?"

"No, we haven't. It still seems best that I move into her quarters, rather than she into mine. Her quarters are here on the stardrive, near Engineering. Mine are on the saucer. With my job it doesn't matter where I live, but it would help Alivia to live near Engineering."

"Then maybe you and your wife should go and transform it into your new home." Frank gave Lindsey a strange look. "What is it, Frank? Don't you think we ladies have bachelorette pads?"

"I guess that's possible," Frank said awkwardly. Then he straighten and gave her a gracious nod. "Thank you, Captain." Frank then exited the bridge.

"Helm, how long before rendezvous?"

"Five minutes, Ma'am," responded Lt. Luke Ryan. Ryan was the main helmsman for the _Orion_ and was a veteran of the original _Orion_. Since becoming main helmsman his confidence had increased greatly. In fact, Lindsey was seeing that Ryan had fallen victim to 'pilot's ego,' which so frequency struck young yet capable pilots.

At the end of the five minutes, Ryan announced, "Approaching the _Orion_ saucer."

"Drop out of warp, Lieutenant."

"Dropping to impulse." The streaking stars gave way to reveal two ships in orbit around a small moon. Lindsey took in a deep breath as she looked upon the _Orion._

The view never ceased to take her breath away. Lindsey let her eyes look over the entire ship. This was her ship; her first official command. It was a feeling like no other. This ship was hers to command, and it was her responsibility. The ship and the crew relied upon her. Both the honor and the weight of responsibility were great.

As she gazed upon her ship, Lindsey's eyes paused on the hull number: NCC 26532-A. The 'A' indicated that this _Orion_ was the second ship by that name, but for Lindsey it was much more. It was a reminder of the previous _Orion_ and the brave men and women who had given their lives defending that ship on its final ill-fated voyage. The original _Orion_ had been ambushed by a rogue Romulan warbird. Its senior staff was killed in the first attack, and Lindsey had been forced to take command. By the time she had brought the _Orion_ back to safety it had suffered too much damage to be repaired. But Starfleet decided to name a brand new _Galaxy_ class starship after the _Orion_ , and for some reason decided to name Lindsey its captain.

Lindsey shook off the memories. "Hail the _Orion_ saucer."

"Hailing," said a new officer at the communications post.

The viewscreen changed to display the _Orion's_ main bridge. In the captain's chair was Lindsey's first officer, Lt. Cmdr. Henry Hickensen. "Welcome back, Captain. I am sorry that your vacation was interrupted, but I am glad to have you back."

"Oh, you're not sorry yet," said Lindsey with a mischievous smile. "Alert all personnel to be wary of the cranky Captain."

"Aye, Captain. Consider it done," said Henry, matching her smile. "Are you ready for docking?"

"Yes, Commander. Prepare the saucer for docking."

"Captain," spoke Ryan. "Requesting permission to do a manual docking."

"Manual?" asked Lindsey. "Why would you want to do a manual docking?"

"Practice," answered Ryan. "You know automatic features. They are always ready to fail as the most inconvenient time. I want to be ready for that possibility."

"You make a good argument, Lieutenant. However, with the sector on yellow alert, I don't want to risk damage to the _Orion_. Proceed with automated docking procedure."

"Aye, Captain," replied Ryan. He entered the appropriated commands. "Commencing automated docking." Ryan lifted his hands to emphasize his lack of control. The viewscreen displayed the 'tongue' of the stardrive approaching the saucer. As they grew closer Lindsey felt a slight nervousness. But the stardrive continued without problem. Soon Lindsey heard the grinding of the two pieces coming together. That was followed by a clunking noise and a slight shutter as the docking clamps fell into place. "Docking complete. All hatches are secured."

"Open the hatches. Transfer all controls to the main bridge," said Lindsey.

"Transfer done, Captain."

"Excellent," said Lindsey as she stood from her chair and walked out of the battle bridge. A turbo lift took her to the main bridge.

As soon as she stepped on to the bridge, Lindsey called for Henry. "Commander, what are our orders?"

"Starfleet Command has ordered us to maintain position," said Henry. "Capt. Benteen has requested to speak with you when you're ready."

"I see her ship has joined us," Lindsey said to Henry. "Do you think she knows more than we do about this yellow alert?"

"If she does, she hasn't told me any of it," replied Henry.

"I will call her from my ready room, in a minute. Status report."

"All systems check out. The _Orion_ is in good shape. Cmdr. O'Hara worked way ahead of schedule in order to leave the _Orion_ in prime condition during her honeymoon. I don't know where she found the time to plan a wedding."

"Did the families and guests of the bride and groom make it home alright?"

"Yes, they did," said Henry. "I have to say, it was a bit enlightening to see Frank's and Alivia's parents. It explains a lot."

"I agree," said Lindsey as recalled the in-law couples. Both fell in love of their new member of the family and with the other set of parents. Frank and Alivia were already receiving requests from both sets of parents to come back to Earth and spend time with all six of them.

Returning to ship related considerations, Lindsey asked, "How is crew morale?"

"Good, although everyone is nervous with the sector wide yellow alert. All eyes are on the Neutral Zone, wondering if an attack is imminent."

"They shouldn't just be looking at the Neutral Zone. With their cloaking devices, the Romulans could attack from any direction. How is our cloak buster?"

"Lt. Raklok and Chief Shelton assure me that our anti-cloak sensors are working just fine. However, they have noted that the sensors are two years old, and the Romulans may have adapted their cloaking devices to become undetectable again."

"That is not comforting," said Lindsey. "Inform Mr. Thrim that the drill he scheduled for tomorrow is canceled. We don't need to spook our crew at a time like this. I will be in my ready room calling Capt. Benteen. I will call you in once I have finished. Until then, you have the bridge, Commander."

"Yes, Captain." Henry did a slight head bow and returned to the captain's chair. Lindsey walked to the captain's ready room, her personal office just off the bridge. Inside was a large desk. On a display was a model of the original _Orion_ and a photo of a woman with long black and gray hair in a captain's uniform; Capt. Taylor, Lindsey's mentor and role model. Behind the desk and to the side was a large vertical window.

"Computer, hail the _Lakota_ ; a private message for Captain Benteen." The computer beeped its acknowledgement. While she was waiting, Lindsey stared out the window. Perfectly in view was the other ship in orbit with the _Orion_ , the USS _Lakota_ , a heavy modified _Excelsior_ class ship. Both it and its captain, Erika Benteen, were quite accomplished during the Dominion War.

Captain Benteen was Lindsey's supervising captain. Lindsey was on a sort of probationary period. This was because she had been named captain of the _Orion_ with very little experience. Despite her position on the ship, Lindsey only had three rank pips on her collar and only bore the rank of commander. She was promised a promotion to captain at the end of this probationary period. Lindsey was for the most part content with the arrangement, but there was a part of her that was impatient. It was nerve racking to know that Starfleet could take her ship away from her whenever they wanted. Once she had the fourth pip and the rank of captain, her claim on the _Orion_ would be more secure.

The computer beeped again, and Lindsey sat down, facing her monitor. She tapped the appropriated command and the image of Capt. Benteen appeared. "Capt. Benteen, you wished to speak to me."

"Yes, Capt. Lander. Sorry to hear about your shorten vacation."

"The life of a captain," replied Lindsey. "I am glad to see you and the _Lakota_ here."

"I set up the rendezvous as soon as the yellow alert came out, but before the hold position order. If Romulans come across the Zone, neither one of us should be caught alone."

"I've had that happen before," said Lindsey. "I imagine that you don't know anything more about this than I do."

"I doubt it," said Benteen. "Everything was quiet, then came the yellow alert, then the stand by order. I think we will learn something soon. They would not want us standing still for too long otherwise."

"I agree. I will remain available if you need me," said Lindsey.

"Same here. Good luck, Lindsey."

"You too, Erika."

* * *

Alivia O'Hara-Grant couldn't stay in her quarters forever. The renovations required to transform the quarters from that of a single woman to a couple were completed during her honeymoon. Frank had already moved in some of his things. Neither one of them had many possessions, but they already had disagreements over how to furnish the sitting room.

Alivia walked to the quarters of Lt. Rikka Nolean, a Bajoran security officer. Rikka answered the door. "Alivia! We weren't expecting you for another week. Wow! Marriage looks good on you. Or maybe it was the Risian sun. It really brings out the green of your skin."

"Thank you, Nolean," said Alivia. Nolean was one of Alivia's first friends on the _Orion_ and the maid of honor at her wedding. Nolean led Alivia into a room with about eight other women. This women's group was founded shortly after the _Orion's_ launch. It was composed of some of the top women officers on the ship. Their unofficial president was Lt. Selina Chaput-Mikkelson, a primary bridge officer.

Selina stood up, "It is good to see you, Alivia." The small human woman walked, or more actually waddled over to Alivia, and extended her a hug. Alivia accepted the hug graciously but awkwardly as Selina's baby bump interposed itself between them.

"It is good to be here, although I'd rather be on my honeymoon," Alivia then looked directly at Selina. "Wow, Selina, you're looking…close."

Selina smiled, "The due date is in a little over four weeks." Selina rubbed her growing belly. "I can't wait." She looked up at Alivia. "Maybe this will be you next."

"Maybe," said Alivia hesitantly. "But maybe we will wait just a bit."

"That's just what I said," exclaimed Selina. "But then came this happy surprise." Selina had married Lt. Johnathan Mikkelson, the _Orion's_ chief navigator, just over a year ago. They were already a dating couple when Alivia joined the crew, and she and Frank had enjoyed many double dates with the happy human couple.

Alivia sat in the circle of women, and the random conversations began. There were many inquiries towards Selina about the sex and name of the child. Selina stated that she and her husband had not settled on a name yet, and if she knew the sex of the child Selina wasn't sharing. This annoyed many of the women, but Alivia knew that Selina was enjoying her taunt.

Alivia fell out of conversation as she took in the group. There was a mix of ranks and departments present. Alivia was the highest ranking woman in the group. In fact, other than the Captain, she was the highest ranking woman on the ship. Alivia had felt at one time that such socializing with subordinates would hurt their professional relationship. But if anything, Alivia benefitted from the group. At this gathering they were all equals. When they left this room, they became officers again, and Alivia's rank suffered no loss of respect.

Alivia's thoughts were interrupted. "You are awfully quiet, Alivia. What's on your mind?" said Lt. Melinda Vibee, an engineer.

"I was just thinking about the time when Selina invited me to join this group." Alivia then turned to Selina. "And I was wondering if we have extended an invitation to our new science officer."

"Lt. T'Sel?" asked Selina. "Um, no, not yet."

"Oh?" asked Alivia.

"We're not sure that she would…fit in to this group," said Selina looking quite awkward.

"Why not?" countered Alivia.

"She's a Vulcan," said Nolean bluntly.

"And that disqualifies her?"

"No," said Selina firmly. "It does not. I just don't think that she will accept the invitation."

"I see," said Alivia. But Alivia wasn't done. "Did any of you think that I would accept?" She scanned the room. "I was one of the most anti-social members of this crew, and if it weren't for Nolean, Frank, and this group, I may have never come out of my shell. And now I thoroughly enjoy this gathering."

"But Vulcans don't have emotions. T'Sel will not 'enjoy' this group," replied Vibee.

"No, she won't take emotional pleasure from it, but she might just find it logical," answered Alivia."

"Logical?" Nolean furled her nose ridges. "How is this logical?"

"Getting to know a portion of the ship's crew is logical." Alivia extended her arms to the group. "We have a prefect cross section of the ship here. We have women from sick bay, Engineering, security, the bridge; you name it, we have it. T'Sel might appreciate the perspective she could gain from a group like this. I know I have. It has made me a better leader."

"You're right," said Selina. "T'Sel may turn us down, but that is her decision." Then Selina got a cunning smile. "Perhaps you should be the one to invite her, Alivia."

"Me? Aren't you usually the one to take initiative?"

"Hello," Selina pointed to her belly. "Eight months pregnant."

"Oh sure, you play the pregnancy card."

"There's got to be some advantaged to carrying a little person around in my womb all day, every day," answered Selina.

"Very well," said Alivia. "I will be the one to invite her." Despite her sour voice, Alivia was actually excited to do it. She hadn't met the new officer yet, and she was looking forward to it.

One of the other women took the opportunity to probe Selina about the sex of her child again, so Alivia turned to Rikka Nolean. "I hear that your sister is on board the _Orion_."

"Yeah, my little sister; the Academy graduate and science officer. Who would have thought?"

"How is she doing?"

"I'm not sure," replied Nolean a bit distantly.

"What do you mean you're not sure? Haven't you talked to her?"

"Yeah, I've talked to her, but only in passing and in courteous ways."

Alivia heard a bit of hurt in her friend's voice. "Are you two not getting along?"

"No, it's not that." Nolean shrugged her shoulders. "We just don't have that must in common anymore."

"You're both Starfleet."

"We're very different Starfleet. I was a transfer from the Bajoran Militia, when Bajor joined the Federation. I was one of the few that requested an assignment away from Bajor or _Deep Space Nine_ , but I didn't go through your Starfleet Academy. My little sister did go through the Academy, and she made friends there. I think she feels more comfortable with the new Starfleet types, especially in the science department. She's a shiny new Starfleet scientist, and I'm an old fashion Bajoran deputy."

Alivia put her arm around Nolean. "I am sure that she will come to appreciate your presence on this ship eventually. Ties of blood are stronger than the Academy."

"I know." Then Nolean's playful voice returned. "Maybe you could talk to her. You're an engineer. Maybe she will appreciate that."

"Sorry, Nolean. The scientists and the engineers may be the smartest people on the ship, but yellow and blue don't mix. They like to sit in their labs testing their theories in controlled environments. We like to crawl into the tubes and get our hands dirty in the real world."

Just then Alivia's ear was drawn to another conversation. "Why not Chef?" said one of the women. "He's tall and handsome. And he's a civilian. The Captain can't date anyone on the ship who is either an officer or an enlisted crewman."

"And he and the Captain already know each other from the old _Orion_ ," said another woman. "In fact, I hear that they are good friends. Selina, you were on the old _Orion_. Is it true that Chef and the Captain are friends?"

Selina seemed hesitant. "Yes, good friends. Richard Matthews is a friend to many, especially those who served on the old _Orion_ , myself included."

"What are we talking about?" asked Alivia.

Vibee answered. "These ladies are trying to find a date for our Captain. They think that 'Chef' Matthews would be a good match."

"Good match? Are you kidding me?" said another woman. "He's a great match, for anyone. Strong, broad shoulders…"

"That's enough, Kassie," said Selina, who seemed eager to change the topic. "I don't think we could truly influence our Captain's dating anyway." Alivia had a sudden revelation. Like Frank, Selina knew Capt. Lander very well from back before she had become a captain. Maybe, also like Frank, Selina had guessed at a relationship between the Captain and Cmdr. Hickensen and didn't want anyone else to know about it.

"Does anyone want to hear about Risa?" asked Alivia. She could see the relief on Selina's face as the topic changed to sandy beaches and Risian men.

* * *

Lindsey was reminded of the fact that vacations often make for more work. She spent much of the day in her ready room writing various reports and making sure her ship was ready for anything. Yellow alert was not a time for something to go wrong. Tomorrow she would personally inspect the major systems like Engineering and sick bay.

Her door chimed. "Come in," she said without looking up.

It was Henry who strolled into the ready room. "You look terrible."

"What?" said Lindsey looking up. Henry had that smile on his face that said he was messing with her. "You should know better than to joke with the captain."

"The captain," said Henry, "needs a little joking for her mental health."

"What are you, the counselor now?"

"No, just a first officer looking out for his captain," said Henry as he sat across from Lindsey's desk. "Seriously, you are looking a little beat."

"There's a lot to be done. Remind me never to go on vacation again."

"Oh, don't say that," replied Henry. "Next time, I will just have to go with you. Make sure that you relax a bit."

Lindsey looked sternly at Henry. "Henry, not here; not now."

"Oh, come on! It was just an innocent comment."

"An innocent comment that we cannot get into the habit of making," responded Lindsey.

"Lindsey, we're in private."

"In my ready room." Lindsey spread her arms to indicate the officer. "In this room I am the captain of a Federation starship, and you are its first officer."

"And we are not a couple," finished Henry. "This is getting very old, Lindsey."

"What are we supposed to do? Starfleet regulations strictly forbid a captain fraternizing with subordinates. We are already breaking the rules. We can't push it."

"But we can't continue like this," countered Henry.

"I know," acknowledged Lindsey. "But can we talk about this another time?"

"At our weekly dinner?"

"Weekly dinner," agreed Lindsey.

Henry gave one last disgusted snort, then turned to Lindsey. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to neglect my duty as a first officer. And right now, I see a captain who is over stressed. And that will not do the _Orion_ any good if we change from yellow alert to red."

"What do you propose, Mr. Hickensen?"

"Take the evening off. Close that report, changed into comfortable clothing, and curl up on your couch with that Sisko novel."

"Your advice is noted, and taken; with one exception," said Lindsey.

"What is that?"

"I have a meeting with Lt. T'Sel."

"Our new science officer? I hope you're ready for that."

"I'm ready. I have been looking forward to this." Lindsey leaned over. "Henry, we have a Vulcan on the ship."

Henry smiled, and Lindsey knew why. She recalled Henry's first day on the old _Orion_. On that day, Lindsey had told him that Vulcans had avoided assignment on the _Orion_ because it wasn't the logical choice for a career minded Vulcan. "Looks like we've moved up in the world," said Henry. "Although T'Sel might be a challenge."

"That she may," said Lindsey. "But if this works, we might end up with a very good science officer."

"And convince Starfleet to pull us off Neutral Zone patrol," added Henry. "I better let you prepare. But after this meeting, I am coming back to make sure you take it easy."

"Consider me watched after. Dismissed." Henry spun around in excessive formality and walked out the door.

It was a few minutes later when the door chimed again. "Enter." In walked a tall, and somewhat stiff, Vulcan woman in a blue uniform. Her two full rank pips indicated that she was a lieutenant senior grade.

"Lt. T'Sel, reporting as requested, Captain."

"At ease, Lieutenant, and please take a seat." The Vulcan woman sat down across the desk from Lindsey, but still remained in a very upright position. Lindsey briefly reminder herself of improving her posture. "How has you first week been, Lieutenant?"

"It has been satisfactory," reported the Vulcan. "Since we have no active projects in the science department, I have used the time to set up the lab."

"How has that been?"

T'Sel continued in her matter-of-fact voice. "It has been busy, given that there was only a bare minimal lab before I arrived. I will be putting in a number of requests for new equipment. Despite this set back, I have discovered that there are advantages to 'starting from scratch,' as the human saying goes."

"True, indeed. And I will gladly approve any and all equipment requests I find reasonable." Lindsey picked up a data pad and pulled up the science team roster. "How about building your team? Have you been able to work well with your subordinates?"

"That has been…satisfactory. The team has responded well to orders, thus far."

"What do you think of them?"

"They meet Starfleet expectations, but are not exemplary by any means. I must admit that I am hesitant to give them a positive rating. I am also concerned about the size of the team. We are too small for any large scale projects."

"That was done deliberately, Lieutenant."

"Forgive me, Captain, but I fail to see the logic in a small team."

"No need for apologies, Lieutenant," said Lindsey. "I want my department heads to feel comfort bringing their concerns to me. As for your concerns, they are related. I am aware that these are not the best officers in Starfleet. As such I wanted the team to grow gradually, adding members periodically, so that the whole team can improve over time. Also, I didn't want to overwhelm you with your first leadership position."

"Do you feel that I might be overwhelmed?" asked T'Sel with a Vulcan eyebrow raise.

"You are aware of the _Orion's_ reputation for taking on sub-par officers and giving them a change to rise above their struggles?"

"I am aware that the late Adm. Taylor of the previous ship named the _Orion_ operated her ship that way."

"And I'm one of her products. Without Adm. Taylor and the _Orion_ I may still be an ensign," said Lindsey. "I hope to continue the _Orion's_ mission."

"Curious, Captain," spoke T'Sel. "You speak of the NCC-26532 and the NCC-26532-A as though they were the same ship. Is this because they have the same name, or because the _Orion-A_ has some of its components like its computer cord from the first _Orion_ , or because it has some of the same crew?"

"It's the other way around, Lieutenant," said Lindsey. "When the _Orion_ , the first one, was damaged beyond repair from a Romulan attack, Starfleet wanted to send a message to the Romulans; a message that Starfleet is resilient, that Starfleet will bounce back. So, they named a brand new ship after the damaged one. And they put components of the old ship in the new. And they transferred the crew including its captain." Lindsey pointed to herself. "Starfleet wanted the Romulans to think of the _Orion-A_ as the continuation of the old _Orion_."

"That is not logical."

"You are correct, it isn't logical," said Lindsey. "It's emotional, it's psychological. You have to remember that although Romulans may be related to Vulcans, but when it comes to emotions and logical, they are more like Humans." T'Sel nodded her understanding but didn't have any words.

"However, I do have to admit that I have gone beyond Starfleet's mentality in my own thinking of the _Orion_ ," Lindsey added. "I do think of this ship as a direct continuation of the old _Orion_ , and my captaincy as a continuation of Capt. Taylor's. That is why I've selected officers who need a little help, a second chance."

"And that is why I have scientists who are less than the best," added T'Sel.

Lindsey gave T'Sel a serious look. "Lieutenant, you are not an exception to that rule."

T'Sel pulled back a little in surprise. "You see me as an under performing officer?"

"Compared to your potential, yes." Lindsey leaned back in her chair. "Lieutenant, I do not take anyone on board this ship, if I don't think they are capable. You are a fantastic scientist, but your move into leadership has been a bit bumpy. Your last two captains have praised your intelligence and your efficiency. But both have critiqued your ability to work as a team. And I have a theory as to why you are struggling to make the next level."

T'Sel sat calmly, taking it all in without any sign of anger or hurt. "Please, Captain, I welcome your insight."

Lindsey smiled at the clearly older Vulcan officer looking to her for advice. "The last place where you have all positive reviews was the _T'Kumbra_. There you ascended to the rank of lieutenant senior grade, and you have remained at that rank for the past six years." Lindsey had a slight smile on her face. "What can you tell me about the _T'Kumbra_ that made it different from other starships, particularly about its crew?"

"The crew of the _T'Kumbra_ was an all Vulcan crew, under the command of Capt. Solok, also a Vulcan," answered T'Sel.

"How would you describe the science team on board the _T'Kumbra_?"

"We were at war at the time, so many of us on the science team carried out additional duties beyond our usual purview. It was logical. Nonetheless our team work with great efficiency."

"I am glad to hear it," said Lindsey. "However, I believe that assignment may have been a detriment to your career."

"How so?" asked T'Sel with an expression of confusion on her face.

"I have no doubt that an all Vulcan team would make for a very efficient and effective team. Your race, Lieutenant, is a remarkable one, and you and your people have my utmost respect. But your service on the _T'Kumbra_ set an unrealistic precedent for you. The United Federation of Planets is not made up of a single species, nor for that matter is Starfleet. If you wish to serve the Federation, if you wish to be in Starfleet, you need to learn how to work with members of other species. This means that you should bring all the particularities of your species, as well as working with and adjusting for the particularities of other species. This is the concept behind the Federation: that together we form a better unity."

"Infinite diversity in infinite combinations," quoted T'Sel. "I ask you, what adjustments will I need to make to lead my team?"

Lindsey leaned forward. "The need to control one's emotions is not unique to Vulcans. In fact, I believe it universal among sentient beings. The difference is that Vulcans have learned the ability to shut down their emotions and to have their thoughts and actions governed by logic. Humans and other species have not gained this ability. Their emotions, while they can certainly fuel appropriate responses, often end up clouding their thoughts and actions. It will be your job to assist your team in proper focusing of their minds, thoughts, and even emotions. At times your Vulcan methods can be of use, but at other times you who have to use other methods of dealing with your team's emotions."

"What other methods, Captain?"

"Most of us cannot shut down our emotions. We need to let them go, allow them to run their course. There will be times, Lieutenant when the method you need to employ is patience. You will have to be patience with our emotions, allowing them to have their appropriate time. Often that's only a few seconds, sometimes few minutes. If it's really bad you may have to give a team member the rest of his or her shift off." Lindsey sat back in her chair. "If it's worse than that, refer that crewman to the counselors. Your job is not to help each crewman, but to help the team."

"How will I know?"

"The same way you learn anything, Lieutenant. You're a scientist, accustomed to the scientific method. Use trial and error. And consult with others: me, Cmdr. Hickensen, the counselors, the other department heads. If you can learn how to manage your team, then you have a bright future in Starfleet, Lieutenant. And Starfleet could use you."

"I understand, Captain."

Lindsey's Starfleet badge chirped. "Bridge to Capt. Lander."

"This is the Captain."

"We are detecting a ship on approach. It is on an intercept course with us."

Lindsey became alarmed. "From what direction?"

"Federation space."

Lindsey was relieved. "I will be on the bridge in a moment." Lindsey stood from her chair, and T'Sel did the same. "Lieutenant, join me on the bridge."

"Yes, Captain."

Lindsey walked out her office and on to the bridge. "What kind of ship are we talking about?"

"It's small," said Henry as he yielded the captain's chair to Lindsey. "A runabout, maybe. Or some other long-range shuttle. It should be in visual range soon." Lindsey waited a moment longer, until Henry put the ship on the view screen. Henry gave a loud whistle. "It's a _Delta Flyer_ class shuttle."

" _Delta Flyer_ class?" asked Lindsey.

"The prototype was designed by the crew of _Voyager_ while they were lost in the Delta Quadrant. Hence the name. It is more than a shuttle. One of its designers was a pilot, Tom Paris. He gave it incredible flight capabilities. B'Elanna Torris and others packed in a powerful warp drive, as well as defensive shields and impressive weaponry."

"You seem to know a lot about this shuttle."

Henry shrugged his shoulders. "You forget, I was a pilot. And this was the most exciting development in Starfleet small craft since the scraped _Yellowstone_ runabout project."

"The _Delta Flyer_ class shuttle is identifying itself as the _Fair Haven_ ," said the sensor crewman. "It is dropping to impulse and hailing us."

"On screen," said Lindsey as she faced the viewer. The image was of a human woman with strange devices over her left eye.

"This is Ens. Annika Hansen of the shuttle _Fair Haven_. We are transporting a VIP to the _Orion_. Allow us to land in your shuttle bay."

"This is Capt. Lander of the _Orion_. Proceed to shuttle bay, Ensign."

The viewer returned to its display of the _Fair Haven_ , and Henry turned to Lindsey. "Is this another VIP that you didn't tell me about?"

"I have no idea who this is, Commander. That woman, I've seen her before." Lindsey tried searching her memory.

"I recognize her name, but can't remember from where," said Henry. "That's it! There was an Annika Hansen listed among the _Delta Flyer's_ designers. I heard the original had some Borg tech in it, and those look like Borg implants above her eye. Could this be Seven of Nine, the Borg drone Adm. Janeway rescued."

With the mention of Janeway, Lindsey's memory kicked in. "I remember when saw her. She was a cadet at the time, assisting…"

"Assisting…who?" asked Henry.

"Nobody," answered Lindsey. But she now felt as though she knew who the VIP was. Lindsey also had a suspicion of why she was here. "Lt. T'Sel, you are dismissed. Mr. Thrim, you have the bridge. Mr. Hickensen, you are with me." Lindsey turned towards the turbolift, and Henry and T'Sel followed her in. T'Sel got off on her deck, leaving Henry and Lindsey alone on the lift.

"A penny for your thoughts," said Henry.

"Did you notice the VIP did not request permission to come on board?"

"I guessed it was for secrecy."

"Could be, or it could be that she doesn't need my permission to come on board."

"Do you know who the VIP is?" But Lindsey did not answer Henry's question.

The two of them arrived at the shuttle bay and watched the _Fair Haven_ turn around to face outward with its rear hatch back towards Henry and Lindsey. The shuttle settled into place. There was a fairly long pause before the hatch opened. The female ensign walked down the ramp. Lindsey noted more mechanical implants on the woman's left arm and hand. The ensign stopped at the bottom of the ramp, stepped to the side, and announced, "Admiral on the deck."

Lindsey stood at attention as a human woman in an admiral's cut of a red Starfleet command uniform came out of the shuttle. Lindsey recognized her immediately. It was the woman who had given her command of the _Orion_. "Admiral Janeway, welcome on board the _Orion._ "

"Thank you, Commander," said Janeway in a friendly tone. But then Janeway became formal. "Commander Lindsey Lander, you are hereby informed that I, Vice-Admiral Kathryn Janeway, am transferring my flag to the USS _Orion_ NCC 26532-A."

Lindsey had imagined the possibility but was still a bit stunned. Nonetheless, she was able to respond. "It is an honor, Admiral. Would you like to take command of your flagship immediately?"

"Yes, Commander. Take me to the bridge."

"This way, Admiral." Lindsey lead Adm. Janeway to the turbo lift. Henry and Ens. Annika Hansen, followed. The lift ride was awkwardly silent. Henry fidgeted a bit.

When the lift doors opened Lindsey and Henry stepped out first, allowing Adm. Janeway to enter between them. Henry whispered to a nearby officer, "Ensign."

The young officer looked up, and his eyes grew wide. Henry gave him a bit more encouragement before the youth announced, "Admiral on the bridge."

The bridge came to attention with everyone except the helmsman and the navigator rising to their feet. Lindsey lead Janeway to the captain's chair. Thrim yielded the chair to Lindsey, who in turn faced Janeway. "Adm. Kathryn Janeway, the USS _Orion_ acknowledges your flag." Lindsey indicated the chair. "Your flagship is at your command, Admiral."

Janeway lowered herself into the captain's chair. "Thank you, Commander. All hands, at ease. We can make the introductions in a minute, but first we have a rendezvous to make. Navigator, Ens. Annika Hansen has a new heading for you. Lay in the course. Communications, tell the _Lakota_ that I wish to speak to Capt. Benteen."

Lindsey had forgotten her place for a moment. She took her seat in the first officer's chair on Janeway's right. Henry took the other chair to Janeway's left. Lindsey watched as Janeway gave her orders to her crew. It seemed strange to see someone else commanding her ship, but with a flag officer in command of the _Orion_ , Lindsey's role became similar to that of a first officer.

Janeway had a brief talk with Benteen, who seemed a bit startled at the sudden arrival of an admiral. Then Janeway turned to Lindsey. "Whenever you are ready, Commander."

"Yes, Admiral." Lindsey issued commands from her just off-centered chair. "Mr. Mikkelson, are we ready?"

"Course is laid in, Captain," responded Johnathan.

"Mr. Ryan, engage, warp 5." Lindsey gave the order, but somehow felt less in control of her own ship.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 _Captain's log; stardate 58075.8: The USS_ Orion _has just become the flagship of Vice-Admiral Kathryn Janeway. We and the_ Lakota _are on course to rendezvous with a Starfleet task force. The Admiral has not yet explained the purpose of this task force, but there is to be a meeting on board the_ Orion _in which she will explain things._

Henry sat in his chair to the left of Adm. Janeway. Lindsey had left the bridge to make sure the conference room and ship's staff were ready for guests. The _Orion_ would soon be playing host to not only an admiral but also to several starship captains. Everything needed to be in shipshape.

The turbo lift doors opened, and Henry saw Lindsey walking down to the lower part of the bridge. On her way to the first officer's chair she passed the captain's chair, in which sat Adm. Janeway. "Admiral," said Lindsey as she acknowledged her superior officer and commander. Lindsey seemed to be handling the situation well, but Henry wondered how she really felt about having the command of her ship taken away from her.

Janeway acknowledge Lindsey and said, "Commander, did you perform the security sweep I requested?" Henry resisted a cringe. It had not escaped his notice that Janeway referred to Lindsey by her rank of commander instead of the title of captain due her as commanding officer of a starship.

"Yes, Admiral," reported Lindsey. "My head of security, Lt. Cmdr. Grant, did the sweep himself. The conference room is clear. On his own initiative, he asked to sweep the whole ship, starting with critical areas. I allowed him to do so. Are we expecting eavesdroppers?"

"One can never be too careful in this neck of the woods," answered Janeway with a smirk. Lindsey returned the smile and sat in the first officer's chair next to the Admiral. When Janeway first came aboard, Henry noted that she had been extremely formal, perhaps to let everyone know that she was in command. But since then she had become softer and more personable, revealing the experienced captain of _Voyager_ that was underneath the admiral's uniform.

Johnathan issued an update from the navigator's chair. "Three minutes to rendezvous."

"Thank you, Mr. Mikkelson," said Lindsey. Henry waited patiently as the entire bridge crew mentally counted down the three minutes. Finally, Lindsey issued the order. "Mr. Ryan, drop to impulse." The _Orion_ reduced from warp speed. The viewport changed from streaking stars to the image of three starships orbiting an inhospitable moon. Two of them were _Defiant_ class ships, and the third was an _Ambassador_ class ship. Sensors confirmed that the _Lakota_ was still on the _Orion's_ starboard wing.

"Sensor Chief, what are the names of those ships?" asked Henry.

Chief Petty Officer Shelton responded, "The USS _Resistant_ , the USS _Courageous_ , and the USS _Hercules_."

"The _Hercules_?" asked Lindsey with a tone of surprise. "NCC 26533, _Ambassador_ class?"

"Yes," answered Shelton with a bit of wonder. Henry too was curious at how Lindsey would know a random starship's hull number. Rather he was curious until Henry realized that it was only one number off from the _Orion's_ hull number of NCC 26532-A.

Janeway was also apparently curious in Lindsey's sudden interest. "Do you know something about the _Hercules_ , Miss. Lander?"

"A little something." Lindsey pointed to the ship. "The _Hercules_ and the original _Orion_ were sister ships: both _Ambassador_ class and built almost simultaneously. The _Orion_ launched just three months prior to the _Hercules._ "

Lindsey continued, "Both ships served Starfleet for a long time and were about to be retired when the Dominion War broke out. Unlike the _Orion_ , which was mostly dedicated to convoy duty, the _Hercules_ was hastily refitted and saw front line action. It was damaged in the Battle of Bajor and the retaking of _Deep Space Nine_. It was repaired in time for the Battle of Cardassia, where it was once again severely damaged. And once again it was repaired." Lindsey deliberately looked over at Lt. T'Sel, the new science officer. "The _Hercules_ has had so many parts and components replaced that it might be considered to be an entirely different ship." T'Sel merely raised her eyebrow, leaving Henry wondering about the nature of the inside joke.

"Impressive knowledge, Miss. Lander," remarked Adm. Janeway. "I'm curious as to why you would know all this."

"I served for five years on the original _Orion._ I took the time to know her and her history. The _Hercules_ is her sister ship, and in my mind is still connected to the _Orion_. I guess that makes her an…auntie-ship to the _Orion-A._ " Lindsey grimaced as she realized how silly she had just sounded, and Henry found the look on her face incredibly cute, but he forced his mind to think of something else. Now was not the time to be thinking about his relationship with Lindsey, especially with an admiral sitting between them.

"Is Capt. Jenner still in command of the _Hercules_?" asked Lindsey trying to make everyone forget her 'auntie-ship' comment.

"Yes, Samuel Jenner is the captain of the _Hercules_ ," responded Janeway. "Do you know him?"

"No, not personally," said Lindsey.

"I've heard of him," said Lt. Cmdr. Ser'rek Thrim. The Andorian officer was standing at the tactical station behind the railing which was above the command chairs. Thrim was also the _Orion's_ second officer, which entitled him to join a senior staff discussion. "His command of the _Hercules_ was incredible and heroic during the Dominion War. But it was also costly. As Capt. Lander stated, his ship was nearly destroyed twice, and he lost a lot of his crewmen."

"It is for his war experienced that I choose Capt. Jenner," said Janeway. "I needed someone who understands how bad things can become."

"War is brutal," responded Thrim. Henry shuttered. Ser'rek Thrim had once been first officer of the _Woodrow Wilson_. He had been on the ship when it was destroyed during the Dominion War. Seeing his friends killed had changed the Andorian into a brooding and angry man. It had cost him his rank of commander and led him down a dark path, where Section 31, the amoral shadow of the Federation, found him and put him to their own use. Fortunately for everyone, Lindsey was able to change Ser'rek's mind. Having seen how the war had affected Ser'rek, Henry wondered what this Capt. Samuel Jenner was like. He hoped that Janeway had chosen him well, because Henry did not want to deal with any more warmongers.

Lindsey appeared to have a more immediate concern, "Admiral, we are not going to war, are we?"

"Possibly," answered Janeway. "But not with the Romulans. All will be made clear at the meeting." Lindsey appeared content with the answer for the time being. Janeway issued an order. "Hail all four ships. I want to talk to the captains."

"Yes, Admiral," said the operations officer. "All ships are responding."

"On screen," said Janeway. The viewscreen changed to display the faces of four starship captains, each getting a corner of the screen. In the upper right was Erika Benteen, captain of the _Lakota_. On the lower left was a Bolian male captain, and on the lower right was a Human female captain. Henry presumed them to be the captains of the two _Defiant_ class ships. Lastly in the upper left was an older Human male, presumably Capt. Samuel Jenner. He had the look of a hard man with an expression that Henry found unnerving.

"Captains, this is Adm. Kathryn Janeway. There will be a meeting on board my flagship, the _Orion_ , at 2200 hours. I want each of you and your first officers present." All four captains acknowledged the order, and Janeway gave the signal to cut the transmission. "Miss. Lander, finish your preparations and be ready to receive visitors."

"Yes, Admiral," said Lindsey as she stood up. "Mr. Hickensen, you're with me."

* * *

Henry stood before the transporter pad. Lindsey was already in the conference room arranging the meeting. The duty of welcoming the other captains fell to Henry and Ser'rek. The transporter chief got his attention. "Commander, the _Resistant_ is ready to beam over its captain and first officer."

"Give them the go ahead." The transporter chief sent the signal, and soon two transporter silhouettes appeared on the pad. Henry stepped forward as the silhouettes changed into a woman perhaps in her early 40's and a Vulcan male. "Welcome Capt. Shelby to the _Orion_. I am Lt. Cmdr. Henry Hickensen, first officer. And a welcome to you, Cmdr. Varik."

"A pleasure, Mr. Hickensen," said Shelby as she stepped down from the platform. She looked around at her surroundings. "This reminds me of the _Enterprise-D._ "

Henry indicated his intent to escort the captain, and she obliged. Her first officer fell in step behind them. "Captain, I was not aware that you served on the _Enterprise_."

"Only briefly," answered Shelby. "But it was…memorable. I assisted Capt. Picard in an investigation of possible Borg activity in Federation space. I will never forget those days," said Shelby a bit subdued. "All those ships destroyed at Wolf 359, and the sight of the assimilated Picard." Shelby shuttered. "There has never been a moment in my career in which I had been more terrified, nor a moment of which I am more proud. At the time, I thought I was something great, but now looking back I see that I was among greats. The crew of the _Enterprise_ saved Earth that day, and I was a part of it."

"That's quite the experience," said Henry, not knowing what else to say. "Now you are the captain of a _Defiant_ class starship."

"Yes, the _Resistant_. I took command of it about two years ago."

"So, you didn't command it during the Dominion War?"

"The _Resistant_ never saw action in the war."

"A _Defiant_ class ship that didn't go to war. I didn't know that happened."

"It wasn't finished yet, Commander," said Shelby as they rounded the last corner.

Henry was puzzled, "I thought Starfleet stopped producing those ships in times of peace."

"They did, but they finished the one they were still working on. The first captain of the ship insisted that it be named _Resistant_. He said it was a way to show that the _Defiant_ class was returning to its original purpose."

"Which was?"

"To counter the Borg," said Shelby as the door to the conference room opened.

"The _Resistant_ will not be futile," said Henry. He allowed Shelby to step into the room full of Starfleet captains. As Henry followed her in, he added, "I am not sure that the Borg will understand the irony."

"If you knew the Borg like I do, Commander, you would know that the Collective will receive the message loud and clear," said Adm. Janeway as she approached the three of them. "Capt. Shelby, Cmdr. Varik, welcome."

"It is an honor, Admiral," said Shelby, addressing Janeway with formality. "But it is also a bit worrying. Five starships and an admiral assembled on the Neutral Zone?"

"All your questions will be answered shortly," said Janeway. "Please take a seat."

Lt. Selina Chaput-Mikkelson approached, "Capt. Shelby, we have two seats for you and your first officer just over here."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. And congratulations," said Shelby as she indicated Selina's quite obvious baby bump. Shelby seemed to spot someone over Henry's shoulder. "Varik, let the lieutenant here lead you to your seat, I will join you shortly."

Henry watched as Selina escorted Varik to his place. He then scanned the room. Admiral Janeway had returned to her spot at the end of the table. Lindsey was greeting Varik in the traditional Vulcan manner. The Bolian captain of the _Courageous_ and his Human female first officer were sitting on the window side of the table. Capt. Benteen and her first officer were also on board, the first ones in fact. Only Capt. Jenner of the _Hercules_ was yet to arrive. Henry found himself glad that Ser'rek would be the one to greet him.

Henry became aware of a woman standing beside him. He turned to find that it was Ens. Annika Hansen, Janeway's personal assistant. She addressed Henry, "Lieutenant Commander, your hospitality officer is very," she seemed to be searching for a word. "…pregnant."

"Yes, Ensign, Lt. Chaput is about four weeks from her due date. She is refusing to take maternity leave just yet, but our chief medical officer has only cleared her for light duty. So, the Captain put her on hospitality duty."

"I understand. It reminds of other another crewman I've served with," said Hansen. "She too was incredibly stubborn, especially when she was pregnant."

Capt. Shelby approached the conversation. "Pardon my interruption, Commander." When Henry indicated that he wasn't offended, Shelby turned to Hansen. "Forgive me if I am mistaken, Ensign, but you are Seven of Nine are you not?"

"Yes," replied Hansen, and Henry's curiosity was piqued. "Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One was my Borg designation. I still go by Seven of Nine from time to time, but I used the name my parents gave me as my official name when I enrolled in the Academy."

"It is an honor to meet you, Seven of Nine," said Shelby. "I read you Academy graduate thesis: _The Borg and How Starfleet Can Counter Their Threat_."

"You read the whole thing?" asked Hansen skeptically.

"Indeed, I did," answered Shelby. "I have always been an over achiever. Besides, researching the Borg has been my specialty since the _Enterprise_ first encountered them."

"My advisor forced me to cut down the length of the document. It still exceeded Academy standards," said Hansen.

"How long of a document are we talking about?" asked Henry.

"My finished product was just shy of two hundred thousand words."

Henry nearly dropped his jaw. "That's almost five hundred standard pages!"

"I cut the project down by about seventy percent. There was much more I wished to say."

Shelby wasn't as shocked as Henry. "Do you by chance have the original full version of the document available?"

"It is not a publishable draft; but yes, I do have it," said Hansen.

"I would like to read it," said Shelby.

"I will get it to you as soon as possible, Captain."

"Thank you, Ensign."

A bell chime noise indicated that the meeting was about to begin. Henry was somewhat relieved to be excused from the conversation. His own academic history paled in comparison to the two women he had just been talking with. Henry took his place next to Lindsey. He noted that Capt. Jenner had joined the conference room while Henry hadn't been paying attention. Selina, Ser'rek, and other support staff exited the room. This left only the captains and their first officers at the table with Admiral Janeway. Ens. Annika 'Seven of Nine' Hansen also remained, seated next to Janeway.

"I am sure that you are all wondering way I have assembled this task force and why this sector is at yellow alert," said Janeway. "To answer that, I want you all to view this transmission we received from Romulus. Ensign."

Annika Hansen activated the viewer, and everyone watched the chaotic bridge scene of the Romulan warbird under attack. Henry felt his blood go cold. All the pleasantries that he had exchange with Capt. Shelby became meaningless. Even if he closed his eyes, Henry still saw the Borg cube haunting his vision.

* * *

Lindsey felt her heart race as she watched the video of the Borg attacking the Romulans. The last part, when she could see Borg drones beaming on to the bridge, hit her that hardest. She couldn't imagine a fate worse than being assimilated. She would rather die than have her body and mind being taken over by the Collective. Despite all the deeds that the Romulans had done against Lindsey and her crew, she couldn't help but feel sorry for them. She wondered what kind of man Centurion Trindak was, and what he had become after assimilation.

Lindsey looked around the room. The face of everyone in the room, except the Vulcan Cmdr. Varik, exhibited some emotional reaction. Benteen looked a little whiter than normal. Shelby was nodding with understanding, as she probably reasoned it was her Borg expertise that had brought her here. Lindsey wondered what her own face looked like. Did her worry show through? Probably.

The recording ended, and Janeway addressed the table. "Both Tal'Aura and Cmdr. Donatra have requested Federation assistance in repelling the Borg from their space; citing our Dominion War alliance. Starfleet is not interested in aiding the Romulans in their own space, but a Borg threat cannot be ignored. Thus, we are being sent into Romulan space."

Lindsey's heart nearly stopped. She had been trying for two years to get her ship and crew reassigned away from the Romulan Neutral Zone, but now she was being asked to enter Romulan space.

"The Romulans are alright with us entering their space?" asked Benteen.

"It was their request," replied Janeway. "They wanted our experts on the Borg and our starships. As far as experts, we have some of the best in this room: Ens. Annika Hansen, a former Borg drone that _Voyager_ liberated; Capt. Shelby, who has made much of her career countering the Borg threat; and myself, who has had numerous encounters with the Borg in the Delta Quadrant."

"Admiral, if I may ask," spoke Shelby. "How about Capt. Picard and the _Enterprise_? Or even Capt. Riker and his _Titan_. They too are experts on the Borg."

"Unfortunately, they are unavailable," answered Janeway.

"What about _Voyager_?" asked Barto, the Bolian captain. "Does it not possess technology to fight the Borg?"

"Indeed," answered Ens. Hansen, speaking out of line. She realized it, but Janeway encouraged her. " _Voyager_ has advance technology that has proven effective against the Borg. But the Borg will adapt. It is only a matter of time before the effectiveness of this technology is diminished."

Janeway picked up the line of reasoning, "And if the Borg come into Federation space, we want those weapons to still work."

"So, we run to help the Romulans, but keep the best weapons for ourselves," said Capt. Jenner with an understanding nod.

"Something like that," replied Janeway.

Lindsey had an objection, but Varik, Shelby's Vulcan first officer beat her to it. "Would not the Romulans at least be somewhat aware of _Voyager's_ technology? And if we show up without it, will they not be upset?"

"Correct on both accounts, Commander," replied Janeway. "However, I still ask you to not speak about _Voyager_ with any Romulans. It is better not to remind them." Janeway lead forward and deepened her voice. "There is another reason to withhold _Voyager_. This all could be a Romulan deception. It may be that _Voyager_ and its technology is their target. While we have such technology, we are a threat to them. But were they to gain it, it would be their advantage."

Barto turned to Benteen, "Capt. Benteen, you have been on the Neutral Zone for two years now. Do you think the Romulans could be fooling us?"

"We have certainly seen such trickery before," said Benteen. "And the Tal Shiar might even have access to Starfleet data on the Borg, enough to make a forged video."

"Such a forgery would be…difficult," inserted Ens. Hansen.

Benteen continued, "I would say that it wouldn't be beneath the powers currently running Romulus or its military to create such a deception. Capt. Lander, you have had more dealings with Romulans than I. Your thoughts?"

Lindsey felt all eyes turn towards her. She realized that Benteen had addressed her deliberately so that the other captains wouldn't forget about her. Lindsey appreciate her supervisor looking out for her. "I have dealt with one Romulan in particular, Cassius Gaiath, a member of the war hawk party. And if that party was running Romulus, I would absolutely say this is exactly the kind of deception I would expect. However, this does not line up with the recent behavior of the current powers. Praetor Tal'Aura is more focused on maintaining her frail hold on the government, and Donatra, at times, has seemed pro-Federation. However, I wouldn't put it beneath either of them to turn on the Federation if they thought it would be helpful to them personally or be good for Romulus. Personally, I think the Romulans are being sincere, but we should proceed with extreme caution."

Shelby put forth a question, "I am not ready to dismiss the Romulan deception theory. Would it not be extremely difficult for a Borg cube to travel to the Alpha Quadrant since _Voyager_ destroyed their transwarp hub?"

Annika Hansen again answered. "The transwarp hub destroyed by _Voyager_ was one of six. With it destroyed the transwarp network was greatly hampered. The Borg will eventually regenerate that hub, build another one somewhere else, or reroute their network. It has already been four years since the destruction of the hub. Much work by the Collective will have already been done. That fact aside, I believe transwarp travel would still be difficult, though I would not use the word extremely. However, if there is a cube in Romulan space, the Borg would have used many resources to get it there."

"Which brings up another point," spoke Jenner. "Why Romulan space? The Borg have focused on Earth and Federation space for years. Why take the war to Romulus?"

"Point of information, Captain," spoke Shelby. "The earliest evidence of Borg activity was found on both Federation and Romulan sides of the Neutral Zone."

This time Henry spoke up. "Maybe the Borg find it too difficult to reach Earth, so they are settling for Romulan space."

"A possible theory," said Janeway. "But it may be very difficult to guess the Collective's motivation."

"My theory," said Jenner. "Is that the Borg know about Shinzon's coup two years ago. Romulus is weak, and ripe for the taking. The Borg see the opportunity."

Hansen spoke again, "The Borg typically see themselves as superior to their opponents. They rarely exhibit such opportunistic behavior. They see a race they wish to assimilate, and they assimilate it."

"Resistance is futile," quoted Lindsey.

"Exactly," responded Hansen. "The Collective does what it wants, and it does not play politics."

"That may change once they have assimilated the Romulans," said Jenner. Lindsey resisted the urge to laugh at the inappropriate joke.

"Joking aside," said Janeway. "If the Borg invade Romulan space, they will become a major threat to the Federation. Like it or not, helping the Romulans is in our best interest." Janeway stood up. "That is why the _Orion_ , the _Lakota_ , and the _Hercules_ will be traveling to Romulus. From there we will be assisting the Romulan fleet in confirming the presence of a Borg cube, and addressing the threat."

"And how will we be helping them address the threat?" asked Jenner.

Janeway answered, "We will assist the Romulans in pushing the Borg out of their space with our experts and, if necessary, our starships."

"The _Courageous_ and the _Resistant_ will not be coming?" asked Capt. Barto.

"We don't want to over commit," said Janeway. "The _Courageous_ and the _Resistant_ are our back-up force. It will be your job to pull us out if we get into trouble, whether that trouble be of the Borg or Romulan variety. Capt. Shelby, your expertise on the Borg will be needed with us. Will your first officer be able to command your ship in your absence?"

"I am confident in Cmdr. Varik's ability to command," said Shelby.

"Good. We may very well need him," said Janeway. "If there are no more general questions, let us move into the details."

* * *

After all the captains and their first officers had departed and the conference room was empty, a transporter silhouette appeared in the room. It transformed into a pointy-eared woman in an all black, unmarked uniform. She silently made her way to the wall opposite the window. She took from her belt a bladed tool and used it to remove a wall decoration. Hidden inside the decoration was a small listening device. The woman replaced the decoration, taking care to hide any sign that it had been tampered with. Then the woman tapped a hidden communications device on her belt, and a transporter somewhere beamed her out.

* * *

Adm. Janeway sat at her desk in the captain's ready room. Lander had yielded the room for Janeway's own use. It felt different than _Voyager's_ ready room. For one thing, it was on the other side of the bridge. It was also more businesslike, with less seating. Many of Lander's decorations were still in the room. One of them was a model of a starship. It was common for captains to have models of previous commands. And so, Lander had a model of the original _Orion_. But next to the model ship was a photo of the late Adm. Taylor, the ship's captain who was killed in the line of duty. It was a reminder that Lander had only been the acting captain of that ship.

There was a chime at the door. "Enter." In walked Capt. Erika Benteen of the _Lakota_. "Captain," said Janeway with surprise. "I expected you to be back on your ship."

"I wanted to talk to Capt. Lander and her first officer for a moment before returning to the _Lakota_. I was also hoping to have a word with you, Admiral."

"Of course, take a seat." The female captain sat upright in a formal posture. She was still young for a captain, although not nearly as young as Lander. Nonetheless Benteen had been aged by the Dominion War. Janeway had been lost in the Delta Quadrant for the duration of that war, but she had seen its effects when she had been reunited with officers she knew before the war. No one who served on the front lines came away unaffected. "What can I do for you?"

"I have a question for you, Admiral."

"I made time for questions in the briefing," said Janeway as she offered a cup of coffee to Benteen.

"I did not want to ask this question in front of the other captains." Benteen waved away the coffee.

"Go ahead. I'm willing to entertain a question or two," said Janeway.

Benteen took a deep breath as if to focus herself. Janeway found this to be strange. "Why did you choose the _Orion_ as your flagship?"

Janeway tried to read Benteen's face to see if she could understand why a captain of another ship would ask such a question. "The _Orion_ is the tactically superior vessel in the taskforce. As a _Galaxy_ class she is superior to both the _Lakota_ and the _Hercules_. As a new ship she is also equipped with the finest technology and upgrades. Would you rather have me choose the _Lakota_?"

"No, Admiral," said Benteen, who held Janeway in an intense gaze. "I just wondered if it had anything to do with the _Orion's_ captain?"

Janeway smiled as she thought she understood Benteen's concern. Benteen was Lander's supervising captain while Lander went through a type of probationary period. "I have every confidence in Cmdr. Lindsey Lander. You forget, I was instrumental in getting her this assignment."

"You mean this 'command' for 'Captain' Lindsey Lander."

Janeway's smile faded. "Is the distinction so important?"

"Admiral, are you aware of the circumstances of my ascent to the captain's chair?" asked Benteen in what seemed to be a sudden change of topic.

"I know that Adm. Layton gave you the command of the _Lakota_ just before he was arrested for an attempted military coup on the Federation's government," answered Janeway.

"Are you also aware that my first official action as the captain of the _Lakota_ was to fire upon another Starfleet ship, the _Defiant_?"

"I had read that," answered Janeway neutrally. She was not following the other captain's logic.

"Fourteen people died that day: Twelve under my command, and two on the _Defiant_. I am responsible for all of those deaths. After that incident there were many who were calling for me to be pulled off the _Lakota_ , and even having my commission taken from me. I thought it was inevitable that I would lose command of the _Lakota_. I also knew that with a tainted career, I would never get another command. But Capt. Sisko stood up for me and for many others who followed Layton. Starfleet allowed me to keep my command, but I was well aware that I was on a short leash."

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Janeway.

"To show you how for the first four years of my command I was on edge. There were times when I was issued orders that I thought put my ship and crew in excessive danger, especially during the Dominion War, but I knew that if I objected to my superiors, they would simply pull me away from the _Lakota_ and replace me with someone else."

"What is your point, Captain?" asked Janeway in a deeper tone, as she began to guess at Benteen's intent with this conversation.

"My point is that Capt. Lander is in a similar situation. She holds only the rank of commander and has been the assigned captain of this ship only on a probationary basis. She knows that if she does not meet with Starfleet's expectations, she will lose the _Orion_. She must trend carefully. Such a situation leaves her vulnerable to the whims of Starfleet Command…and admirals."

"Are you implying that I am taking advantage of Lander and trying to steal her ship?" asked Janeway, no longer hiding her anger.

Benteen answered in a calm but straightforward manner. "What I'm saying is that it doesn't matter that Lander has only three pips on her collar or that Starfleet sees her command as probationary: Lindsey Lander is the captain of the _Orion_ , even if she is not able to assert herself as such." Benteen put her right arm on the desk and leaded forward as she pressed her point. "Lander has been in the command of this ship since its launch. She knows it better than almost anyone. She has handpicked several of the crew members, and in their eyes, she is their captain."

"And you think I've forgotten this?" Janeway's anger had reached a high point. Who did Benteen think she was, coming in and lecturing an admiral?

"I merely reminding you that this is Capt. Lander's ship."

"This ship is not the property of an individual. This ship belongs to Starfleet."

"I did not mean that the _Orion_ was owned by Lander," said Benteen. "But I think you know exactly what I meant. And, in all due respect, Admiral, I don't think you would have said such a thing if you were still the captain of _Voyager._ "

Janeway stood from her seat. "You are bordering on insubordination, Captain!"

"Something that Lander cannot afford to do," said Benteen in a calm voice. She rose slowly to her feet in a nonthreatening manner and stood at attention. "I have spoken my peace, Admiral."

"You're dismissed. Return to your ship immediately."

"Yes, Admiral." Benteen gave Janeway a formal nod, did an about face, and left the office. Janeway returned to her chair. She refilled her coffee and held the cup beneath her chin, allowing the warm steam to flow over her face as she brewed in her anger.

* * *

Lindsey looked up from her data pad as Benteen left the ready room. "Capt. Lander, I will be returning to the _Lakota_ immediately. I regret that we will not have time for our meeting."

"Sorry to hear that, Capt. Benteen."

"As am I." Benteen soften her expression. "Stay strong, Lindsey."

"You too, Erika," answered Lindsey. Benteen turned and left the bridge.

"What was that all about?" asked Henry.

"I'm not sure," said Lindsey. "It is not like Erika to be so abrupt. Whatever she and Janeway talked about it wasn't too pleasing."

"How does that affect us?"

"Hopefully, it doesn't," said Lindsey. "Have we evacuated our civilian population?"

"Except those who wished to remain on board," answered Henry. "We really don't have many civilians on board."

"I know," said Lindsey. "But it is still good to let them remain in Federation space. How are the upgrades coming?"

"Good, so far. O'Hara requested to borrow Lt. Kustov from the _Lakota_ for the upgrades to our torpedo tubes. The two of them should have the quantum torpedoes installed and ready within the day."

"Vlad is back?" asked Lindsey as she remembered the Russian officer who had to take over Engineering on the old _Orion_.

"Only for a bit. The _Lakota_ will want him back." Henry leaned in closer. "I suppose we will have to cancel our dinner tonight."

"Nonsense," said Lindsey.

"Lindsey, we have an admiral on board." Henry tried to keep his voice low and out of earshot of the bridge crew. "Don't you think that is a bad idea?"

Lindsey smiled at Henry. The weekly captain-first officer dinner was in reality a clandestine date night. Fraternization between a captain and a subordinate was strictly forbidden by Starfleet, but Lindsey and Henry were taking the risk. "I going to invite the Admiral to join us."

"You are?"

"She's the flag officer of this ship. Shouldn't she be at the Captain's dinner?"

"I guess so," replied Henry nervously. "I am going to check on some of the modifications the Admiral's ensign has been working on."

Lindsey laughed inside herself as she recognized Henry's attempt to change topic. "You do that. Let me know how they are preceding."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 _Flag Officer's log; stardate 58076.3: With all the captains and their crews briefed on the possible invasion of Romulan space by the Borg, we are all preparing ourselves and our ships for a likely hostile encounter with the Borg. I have sent Seven of Nine…Ens. Annika Hansen, my assistant to implement the modifications that we have developed into the_ Orion's _systems. Miss. Hansen has assured me that my flag ship will be Borg ready in a day or two, and the whole fleet in three days._

 _Meanwhile I am attempting to settle in on board the_ Orion _. I hope I do not encounter any more resistance to my presence here besides the unfortunate conversation I had with Capt. Erika Benteen._

Alivia slide out of the Jefferies tube. "One down, nine to go," she said. "That wasn't so hard."

"Quantum torpedoes were designed to work in Starfleet launch tubes," said Lt. Vladimir Kustov, an engineer from the _Lakota_ and former crewman on the _Orion_. "They were a bit more powerful than expected, but with a few modifications the launch tubes will function optimally."

"Thank you for your help, Vlad."

"You're welcome, Alivia."

"Excuse me," said Adm. Janeway's ensign who had arrived. "I am looking for a Lt. Cmdr. O'Hara-Grant."

"I am O'Hara-Grant," said Alivia who was still trying to get use to the new hyphenated last name.

"I am Ens. Annika Hansen. Adm. Janeway wanted me to install some Borg defense measures. You are the Chief Engineer. Allow me to assist you." Alivia noted the Borg implants on the woman's face and reminded herself that this woman was once the Borg drone known as Seven of Nine.

"What kind of defense measures are we talking about?"

"Modifying the force fields in all decks to seal off different sections," answered Hansen.

"In case of depressurization or boarding?" asked Alivia.

"The latter," said Hansen. "The modifications include increasing the power to the force fields as well as randomizing their frequencies. The Borg will adapt, but if we make every force field operate at a different frequency it will slow them down."

"Sounds good, Ensign," said Alivia. "Sánchez, can you finish the other torpedo tubes without us?"

"Yes, Commander," replied one of the other engineers.

"Good. Vlad, you should come with us. You will be making the same modifications on the _Lakota._ "

"Of course."

Hansen looked at Vlad. "You are not assigned to this ship?"

"No, I am Lt. Vladimir Anatolyevich Kustov, engineer on board the _Lakota_."

Hansen nodded. "The Commander is right. It would be good for you to accompany." Hansen then turned and began to walk down the corridor. Alivia and Vlad exchanged an amused look. Hansen was careful not to give orders to the two higher ranking officers, but she was nonetheless leading them around.

Alivia caught up to Hansen. "These modifications sound like a security issue. Have you notified our Chief of Security?"

"No, I have not."

"Just as well make it a party," said Alivia as she tapped her combadge. "O'Hara-Grant to Grant." Alivia had another moment of pleasant surprise as she called her husband. She still couldn't believe that she was actually married.

"Grant here, what can I do for you?"

"Meet us on deck 7, section 3. We have something for you to take a look at."

"On my way."

"Lt. Cmdr. Ulysses Francis Grant is your husband?" asked Hansen in her strange declarative way.

"Yes, we were wed a week and a half ago."

"Then I believe I should be congratulating you."

"Thank you, Ensign Here is one of the force field emitters." Alivia pulled off a maintenance panel. "Let's see what you got." Hansen raised her left eyebrow at the challenge.

They were already done when Frank arrived. "What have we here?"

"Frank, this is Ens. Annika Hansen. She works for the Admiral. She has some ideas on security measures against the Borg. Ens. Hansen, this is Lt. Cmdr. Ulysses Grant."

"A pleasure, Commander."

"What kind of defense measures are you working on?" asked Frank. Alivia noted with pleasure that Frank was on the opposite side of the emitter. So, she activated the force field. With a flicker the field was up. Frank reached out gently and tapped the field. "You didn't bring me here to show me a force field. What's unique about this?"

"The magnitude has been increased," said Hansen. "Also, no two fields will operate at the same frequency." Hansen lowered the field.

"That should slow them down," said Frank as he rubbed his stubbly chin. Alivia would again have to remind him to shave. "What if each field had three different frequencies? Once the Borg adapt to one, the field would switch to another."

"A good idea," said Hansen.

Frank rubbed his chin again. "We will have to control how the fields are deployed. The security office, the bridge, and the battle bridge would all need control over them."

"I also plan on tying them into the internal sensors. When a Borg transporter signature is detected that section's fields will deploy."

"Good," said Frank, and Alivia recognized that eager look in his eyes. His mind was racing with ideas. And he had just found in Hansen someone whom he could bank them off on. "Ensign, I have a few other ideas to use against the Borg. Your opinion would be invaluable."

"I will oblige after I have finished with Cmdr. O'Hara-Grant. Perhaps, in one hour."

"It's a date," said Frank with a juvenile smile aimed at Alivia. Alivia replied with a scowl. Being married was definitely a new experience.

* * *

Ens. Rikka Samae was taking a lunch break from her work. She was just about to find another member of the science team when she heard a familiar voice.

"Samae, Samae. Sis, wait up."

"Lieutenant," answered Samae. She tried her best to hide her eyeroll.

"Lieutenant?!" replied Rikka Nolean. "Is that how you address your sister?"

"It is when we serve on the same starship."

"Of course, when we are working. I am aware of proper behavior of officers. But break time is different," said Nolean. "Speaking of which, I was wondering if you would take your break with your big sister."

"I was planning on meeting up with some other science officers."

"Rikka Samae, you have hardly even said hello to your sister since coming on board."

"You sound like mother."

"Well I should, because you sound like a whinny child." Nolean calmed down a bit. "Will you join me for my lunch break, or not?"

"Yes, sister, I will join you," answered Samae. She could only hope that this would get Nolean off her back.

The two of them walked down to the mess hall. As soon as they arrived, Samae saw the Orion woman and chief engineer, Lt. Cmdr. Alivia O'Hara-Grant waving at them. "Nolean, join us." At the table were a number of other engineers, one of whom Samae didn't recognize.

"No thank you, Alivia. I am eating with my sister."

O'Hara-Grant stood up and approached. "So, you're the other Rikka."

"Yes, Commander, I am Ens. Rikka Samae," answered Samae formally.

A small, knowing smile crossed O'Hara-Grant's face. "Welcome on board the _Orion_. Although I am not sure how I feel about the blue uniform, Ensign; if you are family to Nolean then you are always welcome to join my table."

"I appreciate that, Commander," was the only response Samae could find. She was not accustomed to being approached socially by a senior officer.

O'Hara-Grant turned to Samae's sister. "Nolean, have you seen your boss? He was supposed to joined us."

"Last I saw he was still meeting with the Borg woman, Ens. Hansen. Perhaps he isn't finished."

"Probably not. You know how Frank gets when he is interested in a project. He loses all concept of time. It frustrates me to no end."

"You married him."

"Yes, I did. Enjoy your lunch, Nolean. And you too, Ensign."

"We will," answered Nolean. Samae's sister then led her to the buffet line. "A bit of advice, little sister, on the _Orion_ we have a top-notch chef. You will always be better off taking his food than ordering off the replicator menu. He once made a Bajoran dish. It was the best I've ever had off-world."

"I like Earth cuisine," said Samae.

"Chef Matthews does that well too. He is a human after all. Just don't order any of his Klingon dishes. They are actually authentic, and thus to be avoided."

Samae might have laughed at that, but she was self-conscious. She merely filled her tray and followed her sister. Once they sat down, Samae decided to ask a question. "How is it that you dare speak casually with a senior officer?"

"You mean Alivia?" Nolean pointed to the Orion engineer. "She's a good friend. In fact, I was the Maid of Honor at her wedding. Alivia was raised on Earth, and it is Earth custom for a bride to…"

"I know Earth customs, Nolean. I lived there for four years during my time at the Academy."

"I see," said Nolean, subdued. "I guess I forget about that. I see our Starfleet experiences are a bit different. I transferred in via the Bajoran Militia, and you got to go through the Academy. Have I ever told you how proud I am of you, sis?"

"Yes, Nolean, you have."

"My sister, the scientist! You were always the smart one."

"You are just as smart as I am," said Samae. "You never applied yourself."

"Now you sound like mother," said Nolean. "I found militia work more to my taste. Never could endure a science class. Then again, I did request to be transferred off Bajor and experience the greater possibilities of Starfleet."

"I see you mingle well with the crew."

"Have you ever met a group that I haven't mingled well with?" asked Nolean.

"I guess not." Samae played with a small tomato from her salad, pushing it back and forth with her fork. Nolean watched her with little interest. The silence was almost unbearable. Samae tried to find something to talk about, but she didn't know what.

"Are you ashamed of me or of Bajor, sister?"

Samae nearly fell out of her chair. "Wha…what?"

"Are you ashamed of me or of Bajor?" asked Nolean. "You have been avoiding me ever since you came on board."

"I've been busy," said Samae. "Setting up a new science lab, and now with all the preparations we are making to counter the Borg."

"Don't tell me about busy," retorted Nolean. "Cmdr. Grant has us running more drills than I've ever done. My muscles ache worse than they did at initial training in the Militia. Fighting hand to hand with holographic Borg drones is like punching a metal wall. Yet in all that I am willing to make time for my friends and for my sister.

"And that's not all," Nolean continued. "You barely answered my letters when you were in the Academy, and you certainly never called me. I talked to mother back home, and she rarely hears from you. So maybe it's us. Maybe we embarrass you.

"Or maybe, it's your Bajoran heritage. I never see you wearing your _d'ja pagh_." Nolean pulled on her ear where her Bajoran earring would normally go.

"That's against Starfleet uniform regulations."

"Only when you're on duty. I put mine on as soon as I go off duty," replied Nolean. "Do you not wish to be associated with your own heritage?"

"No, that's not it," said Samae. "I have just become more comfortable around the Starfleet type. It wouldn't do for me to be talking about my pah or praying to wormhole aliens."

"You mean the Prophets."

"Wormhole aliens, Prophets: same thing."

"Technically, yes. But we are Bajoran. Why not call them by the same name we have given them for centuries?" Nolean reached out and held Samae's hand. "You can be both Bajoran and Starfleet. The people here are open minded. Your boss is a Vulcan. Our second officer is an Andorian. There is a Klingon at the next table eating gagh. And I am a Bajoran. Nobody thinks twice about me."

"But you are a security officer," said Samae emphatically. She wiggled her hand out of Nolean's and pointed to herself. "I am a scientist. I can't be holding on to ancient practices and beliefs. They will get in the way."

Nolean soften her expression. "Maybe so, but maybe not. If there is a way to reconcile our heritage with Starfleet science, then my little sister is the one smart enough to figure it out." Nolean stood and took her tray. "I have to get back. Cmdr. Grant has us reworking our phasers to adapt them to the Borg. Don't shut me out, Samae. I want to help."

Samae watched as her sister left. Then she proceeded to play with the tomato. Her appetite was gone.

* * *

Seven of Nine picked up the weapon. "An interesting idea, Commander. Mixing weapons technology from two different species could delay how quickly the Borg will adapt." Seven set the Romulan disruptor back down on the desk. "But I would advise using something other than Romulan weaponry. If the video we saw is true, the Borg have already encountered recent Romulan technology. They will have adapted to it already."

"I see," replied Cmdr. Grant, the head of security on the _Orion_. "But I don't have access to anything else. And I only have a limited supply of Romulan weaponry on the _Orion_."

"I did not think that it was standard practice to keep alien weapons technology on board Starfleet vessels."

"It's not," said Grant. "But I like to have additional options. Thank you for your input, Ensign."

"You are welcome, Commander."

"Shoot!" said Grant suddenly.

"Is something wrong, Commander?"

"No, it's just that I'm late for my lunch date."

"Lunch date?" asked Seven.

"Yeah, I was supposed to meet my wife and a few others, mostly engineers, for lunch. If I go now, I can still catch them."

"Then I will leave you to your lunch date," said Seven.

"Or you could come along."

"Commander?"

"You will be serving on the _Orion_ for the near future. It might be good for you to get to know some of the crew. Besides, I wound wager that you haven't eaten since breakfast."

"Then you would have made a good wager, Commander. I will join you." Seven rose from her chair and followed Grant.

They arrived at the mess hall, where they were approached by Lt. Cmdr. O'Hara-Grant. "You're late."

"Sorry, my dear." Grant gave his wife a short kiss on the lips. "Hope you don't mind that I brought a guest."

"Not at all. Please join us, Miss Hansen."

"Gladly," replied Seven. She took her place next to Grant. O'Hara-Grant introduced her to the table.

"Everyone, this is Ens. Annika Hansen. She's an expert on the Borg. Adm. Janeway has brought her on board to prepare the _Orion_ for our mission."

O'Hara-Grant introduced the others at the table. There was the Klingon engineer, Lt. Raklok; two human engineers, Chief Petty Officer Shelton and Lt. Melinda Vibee; and Lt. Vladimir Kustov of the _Lakota_.

As the various officers were introducing themselves, Seven saw a tall human male with an apron and a chef's hat approached the table. "Cmdr. Grant, what can I get for you today?"

"What are my options?" asked Grant

"He will have the soup," said O'Hara-Grant.

"We've been married for only a couple weeks, and you are already ordering my food for me," said Grant.

"You would have spent most of your lunch break considering the options, before you finally end up deciding on the soup," answered O'Hara-Grant. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Grant gave a sign of surrender. "I guess I'm having the soup."

Seven was just making mental notes of spousal interactions when the cook turned towards her. Seven couldn't help but notice the man's well-maintained physique. "Ensign, please allow me to welcome you on board the _Orion_."

"I have been suitably welcomed by your captain and much of the crew," answered Seven.

"Ah, but they are all Starfleet. I am a civilian. And on behalf the civilian population of this ship I welcome you. My name is Richard Matthews. Everyone around here calls me 'Chef.' I am in charge of the mess hall."

"I thought the civilian population had been evacuated?" asked Seven.

"I chose to remain. You Starfleet officers and crewmen still need to eat. Speaking of which, we have quite the variety here. What can I get for you?"

"Any standard meal will do."

"No," said Matthews. "Not for a guest. I pride myself on accommodating guests. So, I need you to tell me your favorite food."

"It would be inefficient for you to focus on the needs one crewman, rather than the whole," answered Seven.

"Again, I'm civilian. I have the luxury of being inefficient when I choose. So, I ask again. What is your favorite food?"

Seven was about to object again, when she noticed the whole table was watching with interest. She turned back to Matthews and simply said, "Strawberries. My favorite food is strawberries."

Matthews nodded as though he approved. "I should have some ripe strawberries in a couple weeks."

"You do not replicate them?"

"If I have to. But I believe growing food is better. We have a hydroponics center in which I grow a lot of my food stuffs. The strawberries are not yet ripe, but soon I will make something for you."

"That would acceptable," said Seven. "In the meantime, I will take the soup."

"Very well." Matthews stepped away and returned to the kitchen. As he left most of the table returned to their food, but Lt. Vibee was watching Matthews with her spoon full of soup frozen halfway to her mouth.

O'Hara-Grant also noticed, "Melinda, you're staring."

"Huh?" said Vibee as the spoon full of hot liquid fell on her lap. "Can you blame me?"

"You find Mr. Matthews attractive?" said Seven.

"You don't?" asked Vibee.

Seven had to admit that the man's physique was impressive. "I do not believe it would be good for me to fraternize with members of this crew, given my short duration here."

"I'm not talking fraternizing, just imagining."

"Melinda!" said O'Hara-Grant in an embarrassed voice. "He's good man, not an object for your fantasy."

"Oh, come on, Commander," responded Vibee. "You forget I've seen him in action against the Romulans."

"What do you mean?" asked Seven.

"Chef fought to defend Engineering on the old _Orion_ ," said Vibee. "I was with him when he fought the Romulan Colonel."

"Your chef fights?" asked Seven. She had seen Neelix, the mess hall chef of _Voyager_ , use a phaser a time or two, but Seven thought he was an exception.

"Chef, used to be a security officer for Starfleet," explained Grant. "He was a hero during the Dominion War. Fought against the Jem'Hadar. But after the war, he resigned his commission."

"Why?"

Grant paused as if he was reluctant to answer. "He fought in many battles. After the war he wanted to be away from all the killing and death. But his commission was temporarily reinstated on the old _Orion_ , and he once again defended a starship from a boarding party. He was instrumental in stopping Colonel Gaiath."

"Yes indeed," said the Klingon Raklok. "Chef is a warrior and an amazing culinary artist." Raklok's voice rolled in boisterous grandeur. "If he were a Klingon, songs would be sung about the enemies he has slain and the gagh he has prepared." As if to emphasize the point, Raklok consumed a large portion of the wiggling worms on his plate.

"And he would enjoy none of it," said Grant. "Chef did what he needed to do to protect his shipmates and friends, both in the Dominion War and on the _Orion_. But if he never killed another person again in his life, he would be perfectly fine with that."

"A humble warrior," said Raklok.

"A reluctant warrior," corrected Grant.

"Either way, he looks…"

"Melinda…don't." Vibee gave O'Hara-Grant a disappointed look.

Strangely, Seven found the whole thing enjoyable. These people were very different from the crew of _Voyager_ , but they shared a similar camaraderie amongst themselves.

They were a collective.

* * *

Lindsey set the table for three. She opted for a formal setting over the candlelit setting she normally shared with Henry. She also opted to have Chef cook the meal, instead of her own inconsistent cooking.

The door slid open, and Henry walked in. He came up to Lindsey and kissed her on the lips. Lindsey allowed herself to enjoy it for a moment, before she broke the lip lock. "What if the Admiral comes early?"

Henry turned around and sat on a couch. "It's been two years of secrecy and holding back. I guess I grow tired of it."

"Many sentient species court for longer before they move on to the next level."

"And many species don't," replied Henry. He raised his hand and ruffled his blond hair. "It's not the waiting that bothers me." He stood up and held Lindsey's hand. "It's the not knowing, the not having a plan. When are things going to change? When will we find a loop hole in the Starfleet fraternization policies? What if you are promoted? Once you are the full rank of captain, then how will I ever not be your subordinate?"

"I don't know Henry? I am still searching for that loop hole."

"There is one way."

"No! We're not going to talk about this again," said Lindsey.

"We need to talk about it," replied Henry. "If I resign my commission then we would be free from Starfleet regulations and policies. I could find some other useful purpose on this ship."

"I will not let you throw away your career for me," said Lindsey.

"Why not? It's worth it in my opinion." Henry reached out and held Lindsey by the waist and pulled her next to him. As she looked up into his eyes, he told her, "If I could marry you right now, I would."

"But you can't. A captain cannot engage in a romantic relationship with her subordinate, much less marry him."

"So, we're back to my original solution. I resign my commission, cease to be your subordinate, and then we marry."

"Starfleet will never believe you and I were not together before your resignation. It might endanger my potential promotion."

"Then we wait until after your promotion to captain. They cannot take away the _Orion_ so easily if you have the full rank of captain." Henry backed away from Lindsey. "I told you, I can wait. I just need to know that there is a plan; that the waiting will come to an end. The plan: I wait until your promotion, then I resign my commission, and we wed."

"No resigning of commissions! There has to be another way."

"Another way with us together and on the same ship? I don't see it."

"I can't think of this right now," said Lindsey frantically. "I have an admiral on board, Romulan space to enter, and a Borg Collective to fight."

"You're right," said Henry. "Now is not the time. I apologize. However, I need you to promise me that we will talk about this once we've return to Federation space."

"Sure."

"Promise me."

"I promise. We will talk about this once this Borg/Romulan thing is over," said Lindsey as she placed her hands on Henry's shoulders and looked into his eyes.

The door chimed, and both Henry and Lindsey jumped. Lindsey gave Henry a nervous chuckle. "That would be the Admiral."

* * *

Janeway stood outside the Captain's quarters for a long couple of seconds before the door slide open and revealed Cmdr. Lindsey Lander. "Welcome, Adm. Janeway. Please come in."

Janeway stepped in and looked at the formal dining table. The glassware was crystal and the silverware looked like silver. The centerpiece was an elegant crystal statue of the _Orion_. All of this would be easily replicated, but it was impressive, nonetheless. "Thank you, Miss. Lander. I didn't realize this was a formal affair. I might have worn my dress uniform."

"Not formal, Admiral. This is causal," said Lander. "But forgive me if I try to put on a good show."

"You're forgiven," said Janeway as she sat down in the chair that Mr. Hickensen pulled out for her.

"There is wine and salad for your pleasure," said Lander. "If you will excuse me, I will get our dinner."

"You're not using your replicator?" asked Janeway.

"I normally do," said Lander. "But like I said, I'm putting on a show. And I happen to have a gourmet chef on board." Lander gave a slight bow, like a servant, then left the quarters.

Cmdr. Hickensen sat down opposite of Janeway. He looked nervous as he straighten his uniform. Janeway was still amazed by the effect her presence had on a starship. She never noticed such nervousness around her when she was captain of _Voyager_. But now she was an admiral, and this was not _Voyager_.

"Mr. Hickensen, where are you from?"

"St. Louis."

"Ah, the gateway to the West. I've seen it, but only from a distance."

Hickensen smiled, "I sometimes wonder what the designers of the arch would think of me sitting on a starship on the edge of Federation space."

"Certainly not the frontier they were envisioning."

"No, I don't image it was, Admiral," said Hickensen. Janeway was happy to see him relax. She had grown tired what she had come to call 'admiral nervousness.'

The door opened and revealed Lander and a tall human male pushing a cart. "Adm. Janeway, this is Mr. Richard Matthews, our on-board chef."

"Greetings, Admiral. May I present to you your main course?"

"By all means."

Matthews lifted the silver dome over the tray. "A typical Mid-West meat and potatoes meal. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, cooked carrots, and gravy."

"I'm impressed," said Janeway.

"You haven't tried it yet," said Lander. "Chef grows the potatoes, carrots, and all the herbs and spices in our hydroponics lab."

"Not the beef?" asked Janeway.

Matthews smiled. "The Captain denied my request to keep live cattle on the ship. Go ahead and try it."

Janeway took a fork full of potatoes. As soon her mouth closed on the fork the taste filled her mouth. After swallowing she had to resist the urge to dig into the rest of the meal. "This is incredible. It is like home cooking back in Indiana."

"I am glad you enjoy it." Matthews gave a bow and left the room.

"I wish I had him on _Voyager_ with us. I might still be in Delta Quadrant enjoying his food." Janeway recalled with repulsion, but also a certain fondness, all the many interesting meals that she had courtesy of Neelix.

"Maybe we should have him cook for the Romulans. It might issue in a new era of peace," suggested Lander.

"I might have to arrange that," said Janeway as she took a sip of the red wine. "This is excellent. Is it replicated?"

"No, that is real Earth vineyard wine, a fine vintage I'm told. With real alcohol, not synthehol." Then Lander with a smile added, "You've been warned."

Janeway returned the smile. "I will be cautious. Did your chef make the wine as well?"

"No, this is from my personal supply. From the vineyards of the late Robert Picard, brother of Capt. Jean Luc Picard. The Captain gave me some bottles when he completed his assignment as my supervisor. He told me that a captain should always have a bottle of wine for VIPs."

"I am certainly glad that both Picard's didn't choose to enter Starfleet," said Janeway as she took another sip. "I haven't had a meal like this in a long time. My first officer Chakotay and I used to eat a regular weekly meal together. Of course, Chakotay was often collateral damage in my ongoing war with the replicator." All three of them laughed. "Thank you, Miss. Lander for inviting me. I think I needed this. This has been a very busy day with all our preparations." What Janeway didn't mention was her upsetting conversation with Capt. Benteen. Janeway knew that she had let the other woman's comments get under her skin, but that was a weakness of hers. She was known to hold a grudge.

"Glad to be of service, Admiral," said Lander. "The day has certainly been full. The _Orion_ was a hive of activity like I've never seen before."

"It might have been a similar hive when you were missing in action," said Janeway. "I read the report from that incident, but it was highly redacted."

"Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to discuss it, Admiral," stated Lander. It was clear that the woman did not wish to discuss her mysterious disappearance two years ago.

"I suppose I should be content with one mystery at a time," said Janeway.

"What do you mean?" asked Hickensen.

"The Romulans," said Janeway. "I've had little experience with them. I've been trying to learn all I can, starting with Starfleet Intelligence reports. There is a lot of data, but little actually said."

"I agree, Admiral," said Lander. "I've read all that I could on the Romulans, and still can't claim to be an expert. I do, however, recommend the reports by Capt. Riker, Cmdr. Troi, and Cmdr. Tuvok, as well as anything you can find from Ambassador Spock. They contain the most current information, and I believe them to be the most accurate."

"You've read all of Starfleet's reports on the Romulans?" asked Janeway in disbelief. She had barely scratched the surface of the information Starfleet had on the Romulans.

"Everything since the rise and fall of Shinzon. It pays to know all you can about your neighbor when patrolling a treaty-made neutral zone. I have even read a few Klingon intelligence reports."

"Klingon?" asked Janeway. "How did you get a hold of Klingon reports?"

"One of my lieutenants is a Klingon. Although he had a falling out with the Klingon military prior to his joining Starfleet, his house is still one of fairly high honor. And word of his heroic fighting in the defense of the old _Orion_ has gotten out."

Hickensen let out a short laugh. "You should hear his rendition of the story, Admiral. I think you will find it to be quite entertaining."

"I'm sure I would be greatly entertained." Janeway returned her gaze to Lander. "Starfleet would be interested in acquiring those reports."

Lander's smile faded into a worried look. "Please don't ask me to hand them over. I promised on my honor that I alone would read them. I don't want to upset the Klingons or put my crewman in a difficult place. I will let you know if anything is of relevance."

Janeway was impressed. And a bit of her anger towards Benteen vanished. She could now see why the other captain stood up for this young woman. Janeway was also a bit proud. She had been one of the admirals that had voted to put Lander in command of the _Orion-A_. "So, Commander, after patrolling this Neutral Zone for over two years, how do you feel about crossing it into Romulan territory?"

"Honesty, Admiral, not good," said Lander frankly. "I have been trying for the past couple of months to convince Starfleet to reassign the _Orion_. But now I…we have to take this ship and its crew right into the heart of their territory. I know my duty, Admiral, but forgive me if I am not eager to put this ship or its crew into harm's way."

Lander's face changed into an expression that looked like confusion. "That being said, Admiral, there is a strange eagerness in me."

"How so?"

"I have been reading about these people for years: Donatra, Tal'Aura, Tomalak. Now I will be able to meet them in person; see what they are really like. And perhaps write a report of my own for some other captain or admiral to read. Is that strange?"

"Not at all, Commander," said Janeway as she took another sip of wine. "We're explorers. We seek the unknown. And what's more unknown than the hearts and minds of the Romulan leadership."

"That's one way to look at it," said Hickenen with a slight laugh.

"Indeed, it is," said Janeway. "And, Miss Lander, I will want you with me when we meet them. The Romulan leadership has arranged a meeting with us in three days in their Senate Chambers."

Lander's eyes grew wide. "Three days…Romulan Senate Chambers." Lander looked up at Janeway. "Admiral, the unknown can be scary."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _Captain's log; stardate 58078.4: The_ Orion _is ready to depart for Romulus. This heading will take us not only into the Neutral Zone but indeed across it into Romulan space._

 _I always knew that my Starfleet career might take me out of Federation space. But I imagined it would be exploring the Gamma Quadrant through the Bajoran wormhole or a deep space run in the Beta Quadrant. A trip to Romulus had never entered my mind._

"All modifications have been made. The remaining odds and ends can be completed on route," said Alivia's voice over the comm system.

"Thank you, Commander," said Lindsey. "Admiral, your flagship is ready for departure." Lindsey found it a bit nerve racking playing the role of first officer as she sat on the Admiral's right. She had little experience in the role as she had skipped it for the captain's chair. Of course, the real reason her nerves were racked was the _Orion's_ new heading.

Henry added his report to Lindsey's. "The _Lakota_ and the _Hercules_ also report they are ready to go. And the _Resistant_ and the _Courageous_ report that they are ready."

"Order the _Resistant_ and the _Courageous_ to head for their stand by positions," said Adm. Janeway.

Capt. Shelby moved with a bit of discomfort as she sat on the Admiral's left. She had taken Henry's seat, leaving him to stand up above the bridge railing. Her task was to be an advisor to Adm. Janeway. She was willing to do her duty, but Lindsey could tell that she did not enjoy being taken off her ship. "I can assure you, Admiral, if you call the _Resistant_ will come running," was all the other captain said.

"Thank you, Captain." Janeway spoke to Henry. "Commander, signal the _Lakota_ and the _Hercules_ and order them to accompany us into Romulan territory."

"Yes, Admiral," replied Henry with a slight shudder. Lindsey too shuddered at hearing the words 'Romulan territory.' As Henry issued orders to the other ships, Lindsey looked at the viewscreen as though it was a window. She spotted the star that she had long ago learned to be the star in which Romulus orbited. Lindsey could tell that Henry was looking down at her from his position from above, but Lindsey was determined to maintain her poker face. She sat calmly, looking forward.

"Navigation, lay in a course for Romulus, warp 7," ordered Janeway. "Engage."

For a couple of hours, the bridge was eerily quiet. The only sounds were the beeps and signals from the consoles and the occasional reports from the bridge crew. The silence was finally broken by Lt. Johnathan Mikkelson, the navigator. "Admiral, we are two minutes from entering the Romulan Neutral Zone."

"Continue course and speed. We will slow down as we cross into the Neutral Zone," answered Adm. Janeway. "We don't want to startle any Romulan patrol ships." Lindsey couldn't prevent herself from shuttering. Janeway apparently noticed. "You seem nervous, Commander."

"I am, Admiral."

"May I ask why?"

Lindsey turned towards Henry, who had come down and was now standing near the navigator's seat. "Cmdr. Hickensen, what is rule number one when patrolling the Federation-Romulan border?"

"Do not enter the Neutral Zone," answered Henry.

Lindsey returned her gaze to Janeway. "We have been here for two years, Admiral. We have been practically programed to avoid entering the Neutral Zone at nearly all costs. And now we are not only entering it, but also crossing it into Romulan space. That is enough to make me nervous."

"I see," said Janeway. "Nervous because of the break of habit, or nervous because you fear a negative Romulan reaction?"

"Both," answered Lindsey. "I do not believe that this whole Borg thing is a ruse or a trap on the part of the Romulans. But," Lindsey continued. "The Romulans are hardly unified. Who knows whether the Tal Shiar, the warhawks, or even an independent minded warbird commander might consider a greater threat: us or the Borg?"

"Perhaps there's a colonel with an itchy trigger finger?" added Janeway.

Lindsey tighten her fists, "Perhaps. Forgive me, Admiral. I would rather not think of the man who attacked my ship and its crew twice. He is in a Federation prison and behind me. I would like to keep my focus ahead of me."

"Keeping our focus in front of us would be good," said Janeway. "Sensor Chief, is there any indication of Romulan activity in the Neutral Zone?"

"No, Admiral," replied Chief Petty Officer Shelton. "However, our anti-cloak sensors are two years old. We don't know whether or not the Romulans have improved their cloaking technology since then." Lindsey was proud of the young man. Two years ago, he was a skittish and timid man who practically feared his superiors. Now he could confidently address an admiral. Of course, becoming friends with the _Orion's_ resident Klingon may have helped his confidence.

"Thank you, Sensor Chief. Continue forward scans and inform me of any Romulan activity or anything out of the ordinary."

"Thirty seconds until we reach the Neutral Zone," reported Johnathan.

"Slow to warp 5, and proceed into the Neutral Zone," ordered Janeway.

"Slowing to warp 5 and maintaining heading," said Ryan from the helm.

Lindsey mentally counted the seconds. Confirming her timing, Johnathan spoke just as she was about to reach five. "Entering the Neutral Zone in five, four, three, two, one. We have officially left Federation Space and entered the Romulan Neutral Zone."

Lindsey gripped her armrests.

* * *

"Come on, Doc, you can't bench me."

"Yes, I can, Lieutenant," said Dr. Thomas Randel. "You are three weeks from your due date. I am not going to allow you to return to duty at this time, both for your sake and for your child's sake."

"But we are entering Romulan Space. The _Orion_ will need all its officers," replied the pregnant Lt. Selina Chaput-Mikkelson.

"Believe it or not, Lieutenant, the _Orion_ can function without you. And the fact that we are in dangerous territory only convinces me more of the need to pull you from active duty. If it is any consolation, your husband declined to take paternity leave in order to remain on duty."

"Johnathan gets to stay on the bridge, and I don't. Thanks, Doc, but that does not make me feel better. Your bedside manner is slipping, Doc."

"Bedside manner is always hardest when delivering bad news," answered Dr. Randel. "Although usually the bad news is a bad medical diagnosis, not time off. But if you don't like my bedside manner, I can always activate the Emergence Medical Hologram."

"No thank you, Doctor. The EMH can stay where he is."

"He's not so bad. Although he would have benched you about three weeks ago. You should be grateful that I let you stay on active duty for as long as I did."

"On light duty," countered Selina. But with a sigh of resignation she added, "I do appreciate it, Doctor." Then with a crooked smile she said, "You know that I could ask the Captain to allow me to serve."

Dr. Randel laughed. "Go over my head? That won't do you much good. Captains don't make a habit of over ruling their chief medical officers. And more importantly, I have been a friend of the Captain's for longer that you have."

"You got me there, Doc."

"That I do. You are go to go, Lieutenant."

"Go where?" asked Selina. "I can't go to work."

"How about your quarters, or the Orion's Club. Relax, Lieutenant. That's an order."

"Yes, sir."

Dr. Randel watched as Selina slid off the examining bed and walked out of sick bay. He could hardly wrap his mind around the image of her as a mother.

Dr. Randel was the oldest of the _Orion's_ Senior officers, except for T'Sel. Unlike the new Vulcan science officer Dr. Randel had served on this ship since its launch and before that on board the previous _Orion_ since Capt. Taylor took command. Dr. Randel had seen the entire career of many of the officers on board this ship. He remembered a young Ensign Lander when she had first come on board the old _Orion_ , fresh from the Academy. Lindsey had sure come a long way since then, from a carefree girl to the responsible captain of a starship. And he could remember the nervous Ens. Selina Chaput. She was a young girl who was afraid of responsibility, and now she was going to be a mother. And her husband, Johnathan Mikkelson, was going to be a father.

Dr. Randel's mind went to his own career and decisions, particularly the decision to never marry and have children of his own. A large part of him regretted it, but another part of him realized that the crew of the _Orion_ were like his children. And he was increasingly proud of them.

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?" Dr. Randel left his trip down memory lane to look at the new arrival in sick bay. "Ah, Ens. Annika Hansen. I was wondering when you were going to make your visit to sick bay."

The human woman, once Borg drone, answered, "I am due back in the bridge in ten minutes. I thought it would be an efficient use of my time to check in with you before reporting there. Did you receive the information I sent you?"

"Yes, I did. Trying to develop a medical defense against Borg assimilation seems somewhat futile though."

"Indeed," said Hansen. "But we are ordered to try nonetheless."

"That doesn't sound optimistic, Ensign. However, the ideas generated by _Voyager's_ Doctor seem to be the best. Reading his reports, it is hard to believe that he is an EMH."

"He has progressed far beyond a mere EMH. He is a full person, and a friend," said Hansen a bit defensively. Randel was no counselor, but he could tell that he had hit a nerve. He figured it was best to talk more about the Doctor's work and not the Doctor himself.

"His methods will only delay connection to the hive mind. I am interested in your camouflage proposal, although it is a bit beyond the medical field."

"The Borg are a mixture of biology and technology," answered Hansen. "If we wish to counter them, we must also think in both the biological and technological fields."

"As doctors and engineers. The blue mixing with the yellow."

"Precisely," said Hansen.

"I just hope we don't have to use any of these methods." Dr. Randel's mind suddenly flashed back to Selina, Lindsey, and all the people he cared about on this ship. "I am not sure I can stomach the thought of any of my people being assimilated. And I have a strong stomach. I am a doctor, after all."

"Your people?" asked Ens. Hansen. "You sound like a captain, not a departmental head."

"Unlike the chief engineer or the science officer, my responsibility as chief medical officer extends beyond my staff. I am responsible for the health and safety of the entire crew. In that way I am not unlike the captain."

"Or the chief of security," added Hansen.

"I had not thought of that before," said Dr. Randel. "I suppose you are right. Anything else, Ensign?"

"No, Doctor. That will be all. I must go to the bridge." Dr. Randel watch the young woman leave sick bay and wondered what the future would bring for her.

* * *

"Admiral, positive sensor reading. Multiple vessels detected on the Romulan border."

Lindsey tried to look over the captain's chair to see CPO Shelton. She forgot how much better the view was from that seat. "Where are they, Chief?"

"Traveling parallel on the Neutral Zone border. Could be a patrol. I can now confirm that there are three Romulan warbirds."

"Cloaked?" asked Janeway.

"No, Ma'am. They are uncloaked and making no efforts to hide themselves."

"Are there any other ships in the area?"

"None that I can see, Ma'am. I will continue to scan the area." Shelton paused for a bit as he looked intently at his screen. "Admiral, the ships are slowing. They appear to be positioning themselves directly in our path. Entering visual range now."

"On screen," said Janeway.

Lindsey prepared herself, but she was still startled to see three Romulan warbirds on the viewscreen. As they slowed to a halt and turned to face them, Lindsey could see places where the lead ship had been repaired after battle. "Admiral, I suspect that one is the _Valdore_. Those battle scars seem consistent with the battle with Shinzon's _Scimitar_."

"Donatra's flagship?" asked Adm. Janeway. "We can't assume that. She might have changed ships. Our intelligence is not all that detailed."

"We'll find out soon enough," said Lindsey.

Lindsey was so focused that she hadn't heard the turbo lift open, but she did see Ens. Annika Hansen come forward. "Ens. Hansen reporting for duty."

"Good, Seven. Take operations," said Janeway. Lindsey wanted to object, saying that she had her own people, but then she remembered that her operations officer, Selina, was on maternity leave. Lindsey simply needed to get use to the fact that Janeway was in charge.

"Admiral, we are approaching the Romulan border and the warbirds," said Johnathan.

"Sensor Chief?" asked Janeway.

"I am not picking up any additional ships," responded Shelton. "That doesn't mean they are not out there."

"Drop to impulse and bring us to a full stop at the edge of the Neutral Zone," ordered Janeway. Lindsey watch as the _Orion_ came to a stop, nose to nose with the lead Romulan warbird. The _Hercules_ and the _Lakota_ were on either side of the _Orion_ matching the other two Romulan ships.

"The lead warbird is requesting that we identify ourselves," said Hansen, or Seven as Janeway referred to her.

"Open the channel."

"Channel opened, Admiral."

"This is Vice Admiral Kathryn Janeway of Starfleet on board my flagship the USS _Orion_. Accompanying me is the _Hercules_ and the _Lakota_. We are on route to Romulus at the request of your Praetor, Tal'Aura, and military leader, Commander Donatra."

A Romulan female appeared on screen. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Adm. Janeway. I am Cmdr. Donatra, leader of the Romulan Military Faction, on board my flagship the Imperial Warbird _Valdore_. Welcome to the Romulan Star Empire, Admiral."

"Thank you. It is a rare pleasure for a Starfleet vessel to be welcomed into Romulan space," said Janeway.

"An increasingly less rare occurrence," added Donatra. Lindsey assumed she was referencing the visits of the _Enterprise,_ the _Titan,_ and the number of relief ships that the Capt. Riker had arranged shortly after Shinzon's death. "I for one do not necessarily see that as a bad thing," said Donatra. "But I must warn you, not all Romulans feel that way. If you wish to keep power to your shields, I will understand. But charging your weapons would be interpreted as…unfriendly."

"I understand, Commander. The ships of my fleet with be as friendly as possible," replied Janeway in a kind tone. Then she dropped to a more serious tone. "That is unless we encounter the Borg."

Lindsey watched Donatra carefully. She knew that Adm. Janeway was trying to provoke a reaction, and Lindsey wanted to see it. But Donatra's grim frown looked genuine. "Indeed, Admiral. It may be that you understand our peril more than I do."

"The Collective and I are all too familiar with each other," said Janeway. "I wouldn't wish assimilation upon my worst enemy."

Donatra's smile returned. "And that includes us. Please allow us to escort you to Romulus."

"We would appreciate the escort." Lindsey found herself agreeing with Adm. Janeway. Having a friendly Romulan warbird in the convoy would perhaps dissuade another less friendly faction from attacking them. However, Lindsey wondered just how trust worthy Donatra was. Capts. Picard and Riker both gave her favorable reports, but Lindsey knew that Donatra's first priority would be the Romulan Empire, not Lindsey's ship or crew.

"We will speak again on Romulus, Admiral." Donatra's image disappeared.

Janeway turned to Lindsey. "That went well."

"I would say so," said Lindsey in a not too convincing tone as she watched Donatra's ship take the lead and the two other warbirds dropping in behind. A quick glance at Shelton told her that he still could not detect any cloaked ships. Lindsey wondered if her ship's cloak buster was even effective anymore or if Romulan technological advances had made the sensor equipment obsolete.

"You see less convinced, Commander," said Janeway. "Are there any concerns."

"No, Admiral, just general anxiety," said Lindsey.

"You worried about the Borg?" asked Capt. Shelby.

"No, Captain. I will let you worry about the Borg. I will worry about the Romulans," answered Lindsey.

"That's why I wanted both of you on this ship," said Janeway. "Helm, match speed and course with the _Valdore_. We are heading to Romulus."

* * *

Henry looked out the window of the conference room. His eyes beheld Romulus, the home world of one of the Federation's longest standing enemies. The home of Cassius Gaiath, the Romulan colonel who attacked the _Orion_ twice and was responsible of the deaths of Henry's captain and many of his crewmates. Henry found it ironic that Gaiath was at this moment incarcerated in a Federation prison, while Henry was in orbit over Romulus.

"Quite the view," said Lindsey, whom Henry didn't even know was behind him.

"Yeah, the twenty or so Romulan warbirds in orbit really frame the planet well."

"It's quite the fleet," added Lindsey as she stood next to Henry. "Donatra has recalled many of her ships to safeguard the home planet."

"Any cloaked ships?"

"None that we can see," said Lindsey. "CPO Shelton cautions that our sensors may no longer be able see through the Romulan cloak. But Lt. Raklok can't believe our sensors are so ineffective."

"His opinion maybe colored. He was, after all, one of the engineers who developed that sensor technology."

"I've considered that, but I have to believe him. Our sensors are displaying nothing other than what the naked eye could see; No blips, no anomalies. My suspicion is that the Romulans know of our sensor tech and are deliberately avoiding letting us test them against a cloaked ship."

"Makes sense," said Henry, still staring out at Romulus.

"Nonetheless, I expect you to continue your scans while the Admiral, Capt. Shelby, and I beam down to the surface."

"Yes, Ma'am," Henry resisted the urge to express his discomfort of letting Lindsey go to the Romulan Senate Chambers without him at her side. He couldn't object every time his captain when on a dangerous mission. But Lindsey was much more than just his captain. Instead of voicing his objection, he slipped his hand into Lindsey's and squeezed her hand. Lindsey returned the hand squeeze, but neither of them took their eyes away from the window.

They urgently separated their hands as soon as they heard the door open. Henry was relieved to see that it was just Lt. Cmdr. Grant. "Captain, the Admiral and Capt. Shelby are ready."

"Thank you, Commander." Lindsey returned to a formal stance. "Commander Hickensen, I leave the ship in your command. We will return shortly."

"Yes, Captain," responded Henry. Lindsey then pivoted and walked out of the conference room. Grant turned to follow her, but Henry reached out and grabbed his arm. "Frank, take care of her."

Grant gave Henry a knowing look. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

The white light of the transporter faded, and Janeway found herself in the Romulan Senate Chambers. Despite the danger she faced in this mission, Janeway took a moment to take in the unique situation. The number of Starfleet officers who have stood where she currently stood was in the single digits.

That was until today. Accompanying Adm. Janeway was Cmdr. Lindsey Lander and Capt. Shelby. Capts. Benteen and Jenner were also there, representing their ships, the _Lakota_ and the _Hercules_. The security presence was Lt. Cmdr. Ulysses F. Grant and Lt. Rikka Nolean, both from the _Orion_. Grant had requested more officers, but Janeway had denied the request. She also didn't allow them to carry phasers or any weapons.

"Welcome, Adm. Janeway," said a Romulan woman whom Janeway identified from Starfleet reports as Praetor Tal'Aura. She was the official leader of the Romulan Star Empire, even if in reality she had to share power with the other factions within the Romulan government and military. Next to her was Proconsul Tomalak, a former military commander turned politician. Janeway had read numerous reports of his actions against the Federation and his encounters with the _Enterprise_.

"Thank you, Madam Praetor. It is not often that a Federation admiral is able to meet with the Romulan Praetor." Janeway stood next to the chair that a Romulan uhlan had indicated. Lander was at Janeway's right and Shelby on her left. Benteen and Jenner took positions on either side of the trio, and Grant and Rikka were on the edges.

Just as Janeway was appraising the empty chairs and guessing who was to fill them, Cmdr. Donatra and a Romulan centurion entered. Tal'Aura gave a formal, but none too happy acknowledgement to the Romulan military leader. Janeway looked with appreciation at Donatra. She and her flagship, the _Valdore_ had helped the _Enterprise_ destroy Shinzon's _Scimitar_ and thus saved Earth from a very dangerous weapon of mass destruction.

Donatra approached Janeway, "Welcome, Admiral. I must apologize."

"For what?" asked Janeway.

"I was hoping that the Federation would send Picard. I have worked with him before, and I know him to be an expert on the Borg. However, I have read all I could about your voyage in the Delta Quadrant and your many encounters with the Borg. I am sure that your knowledge will be greatly helpful."

Janeway indeed had ample experience with the Borg, but she found herself regretting the decision to leave Seven of Nine back on the _Orion._ Janeway could use her expertise at this meeting. She was afraid, however, that the usually suspicious Romulans might not react well to having a former Borg drone in their midst. Janeway scolded herself for giving in to her fear. She was loathed to let anyone's prejudice tell her how to manage a crewman, especially a close friend like Seven.

Donatra looked past Janeway to focus to the Starfleet officer next to her. "Is this Lindsey Lander, Captain of the _Orion_ ; the woman who bested Colonel Gaiath twice?"

Janeway gave an encouraging wave to Lander. At first, she seemed surprised to be singled out, but the young woman gained her composure. "Yes, I am."

"Then I congratulate you, but I also begrudge you," said Donatra. "I was hoping to bring him down myself." There was no small amount of anger behind the Romulan woman's face. Janeway found it so perplexing to see such powerful emotion on a face that looked so Vulcan.

"I would have gladly allowed you," said Lander. "But what I couldn't allow was for Gaiath to kill any more of my people. I did what I had to do."

Donatra smiled sinisterly. "You mean to say you got no pleasure in avenging your fallen comrades and captain."

Lander tipped her head to the side. "Justice was served," was all she said, but her expression told more.

Donatra smiled again. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Captain."

"And you as well, Commander," said Lander as the Romulan woman left. Janeway gave Lander her best impressed look. Lander was already showing the subtle skills of a diplomat.

The next contingent to walk in was the oddest. It was mostly made up of Remans, the former slaves of the Romulan Empire who had gained their independence only two years prior. Leading the group was a large Reman male in a gray military uniform. He was Colonel Xiomek, leader of the Reman people.

The one who stood out the most in the group was an elder Vulcan male, Ambassador Spock. Spock, still pursuing his goal of Romulan-Vulcan reunification, had made himself an unlikely ally of the Remans. Peace between the Romulans and Remans was apparently a logical necessity to his aims. As if to let everyone know that the famous Ambassador was still intent on his goal, a Romulan male accompanied him.

Janeway took the initiative to introduce herself to the group. "Colonel Xiomek, Ambassador Spock, I am Adm. Kathryn Janeway. It is an honor."

Xiomek gave Janeway a thoughtful look. Janeway had heard that some Reman's possessed telepathic abilities. She wondered if her mind wasn't being probed at this very moment. But the Reman merely gave her a respectful nodded.

Ambassador Spock spoke in a polite voice. "A pleasure to meet you, Admiral."

"The pleasure is mine," said Janeway. "I believe we have a mutual acquaintance."

"I presume you are referring to Cmdr. Tuvok," answered Spock with his eye brow raised. "He held you high regard." Spock turned Janeway's side. "And it is good to see you again, Capt. Lander. Especially since such a meeting was doubtful the last time we parted."

Janeway hadn't even noticed that Lander had followed her. "It is good to see you as well, Ambassador. And I thank you for the help you lent to Capt. Picard and my crew," said Lander.

Spock acknowledged the thank you and joined the rest of his contingent. Janeway turned to Lander. "You did not tell me that you were acquainted with Ambassador Spock."

"It was very brief, Admiral. And classified." Lander returned to her spot, and Janeway shook her head. She had seen the substantial number of redactions that had appeared on Lander's file about two years ago. Perhaps it was better for Janeway not to know what Lander had gotten mixed up in during her mysterious disappearance at that time.

The last contingent arrived, the warhawks, the anti-Federation party. Their leader, Senator Durjik, entered with his three other Romulan companions. He gave the bare minimal acknowledgement to Tal'Aura, cast a distasteful glare at Donatra, and dealt a look of pure hatred at Janeway and her Federation contingent.

"Everyone, please be seated," said Tal'Aura. Janeway took her chair. So did most everyone else, but each party had people standing guard. Grant and Rikka were standing still behind Janeway and her people.

"We are here to discuss a matter of grave importance and indeed danger to us all," stated Tal'Aura in tone of a professional speaker. She nodded to one of the uhlan guards who activated a viewscreen. On it displayed the video of the attack on the _Terabon_. Janeway had already seen it dozens of times, as likely had everyone in the room.

When the video concluded Tal'Aura continued. "As should be clear to all here, we are facing an enemy whose very presence in our space is a threat the Romulan Star Empire."

"Perhaps more than one enemy," said Senator Durjik, as he casted a none too subtle glare in the direction of Janeway. Janeway knew that she would have to answer his objections to Federation help eventually, but she was not going to be baited into a premature argument. She pretended not to notice.

It was Tal'Aura who addressed the elephant in the room. "As you have all noticed we have present Adm. Kathryn Janeway of the United Federation of Planets. She and her Starfleet ships and crews will provide us with valuable knowledge and expertise on the Borg."

Durjik spoke again. "The Federation are not the only ones to have encountered the Borg. They attacked our outposts on the Neutral Zone as well."

"But they have completely ignored us since then," answered Donatra, who was working hard to contain her anger. "They have however attacked the Federation on several occasions. And it must be mentioned that Adm. Janeway spent considerable time in the Borg's home territory in the Delta Quadrant."

"Nonetheless, I see it as far more dangerous to allow them here, than the Borg," said Durjik as he stood up from his chair.

"Then you don't know the Borg as I do," said Janeway with an edge in her voice. She remained seated, but she wanted the hostile senator to hear her. Besides she was tired of being talked about and not talked to.

Durjik turned towards Janeway for the first time. "And I suppose we should just bow to your expertise no matter what you say." Durjik did not wait for an answer but turned to Tal'Aura. "Madam Praetor, are you so scared of some ghost cyborgs from the Delta Quadrant that you invite our greatest enemy to come right here to our capital, our home planet?"

"I invited them because they are our allies. Or have you forgotten the Dominion War, Senator?"

"Allies!" said Durjik, now shouting. "The Federation is _the_ enemy. They will destroy all that is Romulan!" Durjik pointed his finger at Tal'Aura, which prompted Tomalak to stand as though to defend her. "It is one thing to take advantage of a treaty, but it is another to invite them here. And especially to allow that _murderess_ into our hollowed senate chambers!"

Janeway was surprised to see Durjik point his figure directly at Lander. Janeway could feel the sudden rise in alert in the rest of her companions. Would young Lander be able to withstand being singled out by Durjik?

Durjik began walking towards the Federation contingent. The whole room became tense. Donatra visibly restrained her security. Tal'Aura stayed Tomalak. Janeway could see Lt. Rikka fidgeting out of the corner of her eye. Lt. Cmdr. Grant took a step behind Lander.

Durjik's walk took him right in front of Lander as he spoke to his fellow Romulans. "Don't be fooled by her childlike appearance. She is a butcherer and a slaughterer of our people!" Lander stood from her chair in the face of the accusations. Janeway almost reached out to pull her down. Was this whole meeting about to explode? Durjik faced Lander squarely. "This woman has Romulan blood on her hands. She is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of our loyal soldiers."

"Loyal?!" shouted Donatra from across the room. Janeway was instantly relieved to see Durjik's focus returned to a Romulan. "Colonel Gaiath was a traitor! He and his crew were not loyal to Empire."

"Under who's definition of loyalty? Yours, _Commander_?" said Durjik with a disrespectful emphasis on Donatra's rank. "Just because he didn't serve you, did that make him a traitor? You can't stomach the thought that anyone in the Romulan Empire has military power besides you."

"Gaiath lead two unsanctioned attacks against Federation ships," replied Donatra. "Capt. Lander, did what any captain would do. She defended her ship. But you wouldn't understand that, would you, _Senator_?" Donatra laid the same emphasis on Durjik's title.

"That's enough!" spoke Tal'Aura in a raised voice. "The past actions of a Romulan colonel or a Federation captain are irrelevant. We are here to discuss the current situation. Take your seat, Senator."

Durjik glared once more at Lander before returning to his place. Lander remained standing until Durjik's back was towards her. She then, with her hands on the armrests, slowly and deliberately lowered herself into her chair. Janeway stole a glace across the room. Donatra had a look of respect on her face. Tomalak looked suspiciously impressed. Even Spock had a raised eyebrow. Lander had allowed Durjik to discredit himself in his rage while at the same time gaining the respect of everyone in the room. And she did it all without saying a word.

As Durjik sat back down, Tal'Aura attempted to regain control of her meeting. "The matter before us is not a question of the Federation but one of a dangerous foe, the Borg. We must decide at this meeting how we are to proceed."

At this Cmdr. Donatra stood up. "If I may, Praetor." Janeway knew that Donatra was only putting on a formal show. The military commander probably considered herself as much the ruler of Romulus as the praetor. "I propose that we send scouting ships out to find the vessel that attacked the _Terabon_. Once we find it, we, with the advice of our Federation colleagues, should destroy the vessel."

"Simple and straight forward, Commander," spoke Xiomek, the Reman Colonel, for the first time. "But perhaps not the most intelligent." Donatra's eyes narrowed at the perceived insult from the former military slave. Xiomek, however, didn't wait for her rebuttal. "If what I have been told is true, many starships have been lost in all out battles with even a single Borg cube. Both the Federation Battles of Wolf 359 and Sector 001 cost Starfleet many vessels."

"What else do you propose, Colonel?" replied Donatra.

"That we may need additional help," said Xiomek. "We have already called in the Federation, but you forget that the Remans have an ally in the Klingon Empire. General Khegh has already expressed his willingness to come, and he has the ear of the Chancellor."

The reaction in the room was worth seeing, and Janeway made a point to commit the sight to her memory. The mention of the Klingons startled almost every Romulan in the room. Tal'Aura especially was alarmed. If Durjik didn't want Federation near Romulus, Tal'Aura definitely did not want Klingons.

"I think we have enough outside support for this one, Colonel," said Donatra. "So you know, I did not plan on a simple assault on the Borg. I too am aware of the battles you described. I am also aware that the Federation has had successes against the Borg, which is something the Klingons cannot yet boast. They have the experience and the techniques we need to defeat the Borg."

Janeway kept her face still, but inside her heart picked up the pace. What would happen when the Romulans discovered that she had left all the best anti-Borg devices in Federation space? Refusing to let fear dictate her moves, Janeway choose this moment to speak. "And we are willing to share these techniques. That is why we are here."

"Really?" asked Durjik. "And why would you do that? Out of the kindness of your heart? Or because of your enlighten ideals?"

"No," said Janeway dramatically as she rose to her feet. "While we would like to continue to promote peace between our people, I assure you, our reasons for being here are mostly self-interest and self-preservation. The Borg have no concepts of neutral zones or treaties. If they invade Romulan space, it is only a matter of time before they enter Federation space. We have a chance to hit them now and hit them hard; to make the Collective think twice about attacking us again. If there is one thing the Collective understands it is unity. We may have our differences, but when it comes to the Borg we need to stand together."

"Unity?" asked Durjik reflectively. His eyes very deliberately bounced from Janeway, to Spock, and to Donatra. "Maybe in your lies, Admiral, you reveal a truth." Before Janeway could figure out what the warhawk meant by that, he turned to Tal'Aura.

"Madam Praetor, perhaps I was mistaken about you." Tal'Aura eyed Durjik suspiciously. "While I could never agree with your decision to accept Federation help, perhaps I can forgive it, given your difficult position." Durjik extended his hand in a kind manner, if that was possible. "I know that you do not enjoy working with the enemy and would not do so if you felt you had a choice." Durjik's voice returned to its normal vehemence. "But the Commander here, she considers the Federation an ally. She is even friends with a number of Starfleet officers. And here she has brought her friends to help her in her goals."

"What are you implying, Durjik?!" commanded Donatra.

"I too am puzzled, Senator," said Tal'Aura. "I invited the Federation here as well."

"But at whose advice, Madam Praetor," spoke Durjik. "Who was it that first reported the Borg to you? Who gave you the _Terabon's_ transmission? To whom does the _Terabon_ answer? And who's fleet has our homeworld surrounded?" Durjik deepen his voice. "Madam Praetor, would not an alliance with the Federation be helpful to a military commander looking to execute a coup? And would not a false Borg threat be the perfect reason to bring in said allies?"

Janeway saw a look of fear come over Tal'Aura as her eyes moved over Donatra. The female commander on the other hand looked like she wished to kill Durjik with her own hands. Janeway knew that this was a critical moment. If Tal'Aura suspected a Federation aided military coup of her seat of power, then Janeway's three ships and their crews were in serious danger.

Janeway spoke clearly, "The Senator has a point." Her words caught everyone by surprise. Donatra wore a look of betrayal, Tal'Aura moved to the edge of her seat, and Durjik was completely baffled by his enemy's sudden agreement with him. Janeway milked the attention for another long second before continuing.

"The point is that we do not all trust each other. Madam Praetor, you fear moves against your authority; Senator Durjik, you fear Federation subterfuge; and I fear that my three ships are being lured deep into Romulan territory and into a trap in order for Romulans to steal top Starfleet technology to use against us in a later war."

Janeway continued, "The only way to move past these fears and mistrusts is to find out the truth. Is there really a Borg cube out there or isn't there?"

"And how do you propose, Admiral, that we, who do not trust each other, proceed?" asked Tal'Aura.

"I did not bring a battle fleet into your space, but a scouting force. Allow my ships to begin a search for the Borg cube."

"Allow you free voyage through out territory!" shouted Durjik.

"No, not free. Perhaps a few escort ships would be appropriate," said Janeway. "I will also permit a reasonable number of observers on board my flagship from any party that feels the need to learn more about the Borg presence and Starfleet's intentions."

Durjik gave Janeway a calculating look. "You would allow my people on your ship."

"Yes," said Janeway. "If that is what it takes to earn your trust, or at least assure you that I have no other motive here besides fighting the Borg."

Durjik eyed Janeway suspiciously. "I may find a person or two whom I can trust to keep an eye on you."

"I look forward to it," said Janeway. She then turned to address the room. "You are all welcome to send observers on board my ship. There are some details to sort, but I think the basic plan is simple. My fleet will find and confirm the presence of a Borg vessel, and then we will work together to rid Romulan space of the Borg."

* * *

Alivia was in the control room just next to the warp core in Engineering when Ens. Annika Hansen approached with a business-like demeanor. "Cmdr. O'Hara-Grant, have the scanners be updated to search for transwarp signatures and other signs of Borg activity?"

"Yes, Ensign." Alivia tried not to let the air of authority surrounding Janeway's favorite ensign bother her.

"By my calculations that took ninety-seven minutes longer than is should have to make the necessary calibrations. Your crew seems to be underperforming."

This time Hansen got under Alivia's green skin. "Are you doing a performance evaluation, Ensign?"

"No, Commander."

"A bit of advice, Ensign: You won't make friends quickly by criticizing your superiors so bluntly."

"I am sorry if I have offended you," said Hansen with a look of disappointment. Clearly this was an area in which the woman had struggled with in the past. Alivia's anger dissipated as she sympathized with the woman. It could not be easy transitioning to Starfleet practices when one spent nearly her entire life in the Borg collective.

"No offense taken, Ensign. But you should be cautious with the feelings of those around you, particularly your superiors."

"Your point is well taken," answered the Borg woman.

"The reason the calibrations took longer than you expected was because we wanted to maintain our anti-cloak sensor ability."

"The Romulans are our allies in this matter," said Hansen. "Should we not prioritize our systems against the Borg."

"Yes, but not to the detriment of protecting ourselves from the Romulans." Alivia brought Hansen over to the sensor station. "This ship and its crew have had too many negative experiences with the Romulans to let our guard down. Lt. Raklok, sensor status."

The Klingon engineer reported. "Sensors functioning optimally. We do not detect any Borg activity. Nor can we spot any suspicious Romulan activity, cloaked or otherwise."

"Sensor Chief?"

"I concur, Commander," said Chief Petty Officer Shelton. "But we will keep our eyes peeled. Cmdr. Hickensen ordered the Lieutenant and I to make it our top priority."

"I would issue the same order if our first officer hadn't beaten me too it." Alivia looked at the odd pair. Raklok and Shelton had become close friends sometime before Alivia had come on board.

"If the Romulans try pull any tricks on us again," said Raklok in a violent voice. "We will see it. And if they try battle, we will be victorious again."

"You have done battle with the Romulans?" asked Hansen.

"Yes, we have; glorious and victorious battle. And although Starfleet will not allow us to feast on the hearts of our defeated foes, our blades have been christened with the blood of Romulans."

"You are speaking metaphorically?" asked Hansen.

"No," said Shelton less enthusiastically than Raklok. "He is not."

"Hickensen to O'Hara," rang Alivia's combadge.

"O'Hara here."

"Report to transporter room one and bring the scanning equipment Cmdr. Grant requested."

"Understood, Commander, on my way." Alivia grabbed the triquarter. "Lieutenant, Chief, carry on."

"May I accompany you, Commander?" asked Hansen.

"Of course. This way." Alivia left Engineering and took the turbo lift to the transporter room nearest the bridge. As she and Hansen entered, Cmdr. Hickensen and some security guards were already there.

"Energize," said Hickensen. Seven silhouettes transformed into Adm. Janeway and the rest of her away team. "Welcome back, Admiral. Please stand by for security check."

Hickensen gave Alivia a wave, and she proceeded to scan each with her triquarter. As she scanned the Admiral she got a positive reading. "Excuse me, Admiral." Alivia reached into Janeway's thick brown hair and pulled out a small mechanical bug. It literally looked like a bug. "Looks like we found one. This little guy is transmitting even as we speak."

"Secure it and continue your scans, Commander," replied Janeway as she fixed her hair.

Alivia continued her scans, waving to the security guards each time she found a listening device. "Scan complete, Commander. Eight listening devices found in total. Each one is secured."

"I guess the Tal Shiar found their way into our meeting after all," said Adm. Janeway.

"I would expect nothing less," said Capt. Lander. "Creepy devices though." Lander held up one of the containers holding one of the insect looking listening devices.

"Capt. Riker and his crew found similar devices during their trip here," replied Janeway. "Cmdr. O'Hara-Grant, please make sure that these devices are secured and studied. I want to know whatever we can about our eavesdroppers."

"Yes, Admiral," replied Alivia.

"Rikka, accompany Cmdr. O'Hara-Grant," said Frank. "Make sure security parameters are in place. Then take the rest the shift off. I think you've earned your due today."

"Thank you, Commander," said Nolean with no small amount of relief. Alivia could see the look of fatigue on her husband's face as well. Whatever happened down on the surface had clearly drained the security staff.

"I agree," said Adm. Janeway. "If we ever have to hold another debate with conflicting Romulan parties, it will be too soon. If I could have all the captains meet in my ready room to debrief. After that we all need to get our ships ready for departure."

There was an echo of "Yes, Ma'ams" throughout the room. Adm. Janeway, Capt. Lander, and the other ship captains when one way. Hickensen and Frank went another. Alivia and Nolean went a third way.

So…how was it?" asked Alivia of Nolean.

"How was it?!" replied Nolean. "It was the most tense experience of my life. Four captains, one admiral, but only two unarmed security officers; against a dozen or more Romulans. I count at least six times that things almost came to blows. If it wasn't for Adm. Janeway and Capt. Lander I am sure it would have." Nolean looked down at her hands still nearly clenched in fists. "Alivia, I can't straighten my fingers."

"You said Capt. Lander helped keep the peace. I imagined that she would have stayed fairly silent," said Alivia.

"She did; even when she was accused of murder by one of the warhawks. I don't know how Frank kept his cold. One wrong move at that moment might have started a war."

Alivia smiled as she thought of her husband's calm and focused demeanor. "Let's take these to the science lab. Their containment fields ought to block any signals from these devices." Nolean merely nodded.

The two ladies entered the science lab. Ens. Rikka Samae looked up from her station, but then immediately looked down. A quick look of disappointment flashed across Rikka Nolean's face. Nolean had told Alivia all about her little sister, none of which implied a disconnect between the two of them. Alivia wondered what had come between the sisters.

"Cmdr. O'Hara-Grant, what can I do for you?" said Lt. T'Sel. Alivia had not yet had much time to meet the _Orion's_ new science officer. She had been looking for an excuse. She was hopeful that the emotion-controlled Vulcan would see little logic in the ongoing yellow vs. blue, engineer-scientist feud.

"I have a number of Romulan listening devices. I want to study and reverse engineer them, but we must be careful to keep them from transmitting. I was hoping to use your containment fields."

"Of course," said T'Sel as she led them over to a side table. Nolean placed the devices on the table, and T'Sel said, "Computer, erect a containment field with level 4 communications dampening." The computer beeped, and the field appeared.

Nolean, content with the security measures, left the science lab. Alivia watched as her friend walked away. Alivia had never seen Nolean like this. Her usual free spirit seemed quenched, and her body indeed seemed tightened like a coil ready to spring. Alivia's eyes moved across the lab and landed on the other Bajoran in the room.

"Is there something else I can do for you, Commander?"

"No, Lieutenant. But I would like a personal word with one of your crew." T'Sel seemed confused but gave a signal of permission.

Alivia walked up to Rikka Samae. "Ens. Rikka."

The Bajoran woman was almost startled. "Yes, Commander." Alivia nearly smiled. This young woman reminded Alivia of her early years in Starfleet.

"At ease, Ensign. I come to you not as a commander but as a friend of Nolean's."

"Oh?" said Samae uneasily.

"Ensign, your sister has just returned from a difficult duty. She could use a comforting presence. She and I are good friends, and I will do what I can; but I think the person she would really like to have visit her is you."

"I'm stuck in the science lab until the end of my shift," said Samae, making excuses.

"That's fine. It's not urgent. It can wait until the end of your shift." said Alivia. "Again, I am not speaking as a commander, nor am I giving you orders. I just think it would be good for you to visit your sister."

"I'll think about it," said Samae.

"You do that, Ensign. Carry on."

* * *

"Yes, Commander."

"Frank, what was it like down there?" asked Henry in a subdued voice.

"Tense, Henry, tense. But Janeway is a great diplomat," replied Frank also keeping his voice low so as to prevent the rest of the bridge crew from hearing their conversation

"She does hold the Federation record for the most first contacts," said Henry. "Although being lost in the Delta Quadrant where every contact is a first contact helps."

The meeting in the captain's ready room concluded as the various captains came out. Benteen, Jenner, and Shelby all left the bridge. Lindsey walked right to the captain's chair which Henry yielded.

"Commander, I need you to prepare our guest rooms. Please remove all Federation and Earth symbols or references."

"Are we taking on guests?"

"Yes, Romulan guests. And I don't want to upset them unnecessarily."

"Will they have the same courtesy about upsetting us?" asked Frank in uncharacteristic annoyance. Henry figured he had earned a little venting after enduring hours of Romulan politics on the surface.

"They might," answered Lindsey in a tone that implied the opposite. "Regardless we are called upon to be the bigger man. I want us to do everything we can to make our Romulan guests comfortable."

"We always have to be the diplomats," said Frank.

Lindsey gave Frank a calculating look. "Cmdr. Grant, you gave Lt. Rikka the rest of her shift off. I now do the same for you. Rest up, I need you at full mental capacity for the next couple days."

"I apologize for my attitude, Captain. It is unprofessional. And thank you." With that Frank left the bridge.

Henry watched him leave. Then he looked at Lindsey as she sat in her chair. If Frank was struggling, how much more was Lindsey? "Captain, may I have a word?"

"Of course," answered Lindsey. "Mr. Mikkelson, you have the bridge." Lindsey stood and took two steps towards her ready room before she stopped. She bowed her head as she remembered that it was Janeway's ready room instead. She turned to Henry. "Conference room."

Henry followed her into the conference room. As soon as Lindsey turned around Henry could see the weariness on her face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Henry. Just tired."

"Take some time. I can handle things."

"You're probably right," said Lindsey. "But I want to make sure that things are ready for our Romulan visitors. They didn't tell us when they will be boarding."

"Again, I can handle it," said Henry. He shook his head. "I can't believe we are going to have them on board. After everything we've experienced…to welcome Romulans on our ship."

"It gets worse. Among the Romulan parties invited are the warhawks."

Henry shuddered. "Do we have too?"

"I'm not happy about it either. It was a warhawk who attacked the old _Orion_ and killed Capt. Taylor and many of my friends. And then one of them had the audacity to call me a murderer!" Lindsey slammed her fist on the table. Then she took a deep breath. "But, it's the right call. If we can get the warhawks to side with us against the Borg, then the rest of Romulus will be easy."

"They may be dangerous," said Henry.

"That's why I want Frank at his best. And you too, Henry." Lindsey put her hand on Henry's shoulder. "Janeway and Shelby will be focused on the Borg. We need to watch the Romulans." Lindsey dropped her hand. "Is there anything else, Commander?"

"Just one thing." Henry reached out and embraced Lindsey in a hug. At first she tensed up, alarmed at the inappropriate gesture, but then she relaxed and allowed him to hold her.

After a few long seconds Lindsey broke out of the embrace. "Thank you, Henry."

* * *

Senator Durjik walked passed his guards into his living quarters. Most days he never went anywhere without his trusted security. Now with the Federation orbiting above he certainly could not afford to let down his guard. Even with the added caution, Durjik immediately realized he had made a mistake when he heard the sound of a force field being raised. He should have let the guards clear the room first. He turned around to see the shimmer of the force field between him and the exit.

"Greetings, Senator."

"Guards!" shouted Durjik as he turned to face his enemy.

"Save your breath, Senator." Standing calmly in Durjik's living quarters was a Romulan woman. "This force field contains audio dampening. They cannot hear you." She looked like a simple street peasant with little distinctive markings. Despite her obvious ill intent, Durjik found the woman attractive. She was young and there was an elegance to her arched eyebrows. Her blank expression, on the other hand, wasn't too warm.

"Killing me won't stop my movement." Durjik began to tense his body, preparing to spring at the woman. She stood a bit too far away for such an attack, but Durjik had no intention of dying easily. "If Donatra thinks she can just sweep me away, then she is wrong. My voice will live on in my followers."

"I am not here to kill you, Senator. I have questions for you."

Not from Donatra then, thought Durjik. "So, the Tal Shiar sent you. They have lost their art of subtlety. You will not find me the cooperative type. Although, I am curious. What is it that the infamous spy agency would like to know?"

"Did you or any of your warhawk conspirators create the Borg illusion?"

"What?" Durjik was caught off guard. "No. Why would you ask that?"

"Do you have any ill intentions for the Federation task force here?"

"Plenty. I would love to see them burn." Maybe this woman was sent by Donatra. Only Donatra would care so much about the Federation.

"Have you or any of your compatriots lured the Federation fleet here?"

Now Durjik was confused. "Why would I want Federation ships here?"

"As Adm. Janeway said, to lure them into a trap, to steal their technology, to disrupt any possible Federation-Romulan cooperation."

In a flash of startled insight Durjik realized who his interrogator worked for. "Donatra didn't send you. And you're not Tal Shiar. You're not even Romulan!" Durjik walked slowly forward, trying to subtly get into attack range. "You're Starfleet! A Federation spy in my own house! This will not stand! When my people hear of this they will never cooperate with your precious Starfleet."

"No one learn of this," answered the woman who calmly remained in her place despite Durjik's move to draw nearer. "I will have the answers to my questions. And you will not remember any of our conversation."

Durjik's response was to lunge at the woman. His arms were extended towards her, grasping to tear into her with all his pent up, anti-Federation, violent emotions. The woman actually stepped towards Durjik, stopped his forward movement with her right hand, and with her left hand pinched the back of his neck. Durjik felt his body go inexplicably limp. He dropped to his knees, and it took every effort not to fall on his face.

"What have you done to me?" he asked.

The woman didn't answer but bent down to eye level with him and put her hand to his face; her thumb on his jaw, one finger on his cheek bone, and the rest on his temple. "My mind to your mind; my thoughts to your thoughts."

Durjik felt an alien presence in his mind. "No! Get out of my head, you Vulcan mind-witch!"

"Relax, Senator. My mind to your mind; my thoughts to your thoughts."

When Durjik woke up from what felt like a pleasant nap, he arose and proceeded to pick amongst his followers which one he would send to Janeway's ship. The only remnant of his strange encounter was a vague feeling that he was forgetting something.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 _Captain's log; stardate 58080.2: The fleet is ready to depart Romulus for our Borg hunt. I have been over every system and crew department. I feel confident that my crew is as ready as we possibly could be for a fight with the Borg._

 _However, I am personally not ready to take on our Romulan guests._

Lindsey took a deep breath. "Energize." Five transporter silhouettes appeared on the platform and transformed into five Romulans.

"Welcome on board the _Orion_ ," said Adm. Janeway who stood directly in front of the Romulans. Lindsey stood on Janeway's right, while Henry stood on her left. Thrim and Frank were further back.

"We appreciate your welcome, Admiral," said a Romulan male in senator's clothing. "I am the Romulan Tribune Slavak, representing our honorable Praetor Tal'Aura. These two are my security guards."

Janeway nodded her acknowledgement, and Slavak graciously stepped aside to allow the next group forward, although Lindsey could see that Slavak was also flaunting his privileged spot of going before the next Romulan group. The next pair of Romulans wearing military uniforms ignored the gesture and stepped forward.

"Greetings, Admiral, I am Sub-Cmdr. Matech, of the Romulan military." Matech indicated the woman next to him. "This is Sub-Lt. Ta'Sem. She is my advisor and clerk."

"Welcome to you as well," said Janeway. "Cmdr. Hickensen here, will see you to your rooms. We depart Romulus at 0900 hours. You are welcome to join us on the bridge." The Romulans all gave a nod and walked towards Henry, who lead the contingent out.

"Bring on the next group, Commander," said Janeway.

"Yes, Admiral," said Lindsey. "Ensign, energize." Three more Romulans appeared.

"Welcome on board the _Orion_ , gentlemen." said Janeway again.

One of the Romulans came on down from the platform. "Your welcome is acknowledged, Admiral, but I take no pleasure in coming on board a ship that killed so many of my people. I am Rudal. I represent Senator Durjik and the warhawks."

"Would you wish to be on board a different ship?" asked Janeway. "The _Hercules_ has never participated in any actions against Romulans. In fact, it fought side by side with Romulans during the Dominion War."

"No," said Rudal. "I would rather stay here, closer to my enemy. Senator Durjik told me to keep a very close eye on you and your murderess whom you call Captain." This time Lindsey knew what to expect, so she remained still in her formal pose.

"Very well. You will find no ill intent on board this ship, Mr. Rudal," said Janeway. "But let me reiterate something. We have allowed you to bring armed security guards for your protection. They are permitted to carry sidearms while on board, which is rare on a Federation starship. But those sidearms are to remain in their holsters. If they are drawn in any situation other than the enemy boarding our ship, it will be taken as a hostile action. My security staff will act accordingly."

"If my guards draw their weapons it will be a hostile action, Admiral."

"See to it that it doesn't happen," said Janeway in a hard voice. "Cmdr. Thrim will show you to your quarters. Feel free to inspect them thoroughly. There are no hidden weapons or surveillance equipment in them. We depart Romulus at 0900. You are welcome to join me on the bridge."

"We will be there, and we shall be more thorough in inspecting our quarters than you expect," said Rudal. He and his two companions followed Thrim out the door. Lindsey had requested the Andorian's presence to remind the Romulans that the Federation was made of much more than just humans. She also feared that she would be assassinated if it was her escorting the warhawks. She made a promise to Henry never to be alone with that group.

"One more to go," said Janeway. This time Lindsey just nodded to the transporter ensign. One last silhouette appeared. This time it resolved itself not into a Romulan, but a Reman. "Colonel Xiomek!" said Janeway in surprise. "I did not expect you to come personally…and alone."

The Reman Colonel stood proudly straight. "Why would I, a military commander, send someone else in danger when it is my responsibility? As for my lack of escorts, Spock has told me that you are trustworthy, and I trust him."

"I hope to live up the Ambassador's good word," said Janeway. "And I welcome you on board the _Orion_. We will be leaving Romulus at 0900 hours. You are welcome to join us on the bridge at that time. In the meantime, the Commander here will see you to your quarters."

"Colonel Xiomek, I am Cmdr. Lindsey Lander. Please follow me to your quarters" said Lindsey. The Reman towered over Lindsey's short stature, but followed silently behind her. Lindsey noted that his eyes seemed irritated in the bright hallways.

"You are the captain of this ship, are you not?"

Lindsey was surprised at the question from the Reman colonel. "Yes, I am."

"But you only bare the rank of commander."

"Correct, Colonel. I was given command of this ship based on the past merits of one particular incident."

"The attack of Col. Gaiath on your ship."

"Yes," replied Lindsey, wondering how much this Reman knew about her. "Starfleet felt that I needed a trial period before making the command permanent."

"Adm. Janeway is in command of this ship now?"

"She declared this her flagship, so yes, she is in command."

"And she will command it in battle?"

"Yes, along with the rest of the taskforce."

Xiomek made some sounds that Lindsey took as thoughtful noises. She knew the command structure of the _Orion_ was being evaluated. What she didn't know was what the Reman military commander actually thought about it. Or, for that matter, what she herself thought of it.

When they arrived at his quarters, Lindsey showed Xiomek in. The room was too dark for Lindsey to see. She was sure that her eyes would adjust eventually, but she knew that the Reman was already able to see quite clearly. "The environment controls are all on voice command. If you wish to adjust the lighting or any other settings just ask the computer to do so."

"You have adapted my quarters to suit my species?"

"The Federation is made up of many species with different needs and preferences. While we can't accommodate them all in the common areas, we try our best in their quarters."

"It is appreciated. But I may increase the light. I must not let my eyes become too content in the dark, when I will have to fight in the light."

"Understood, Colonel. If there is anything you need from me, don't hesitate to call me. I have a communicator for you." Lindsey nearly slapped herself on the forehead for her silly mistake. "But I can't see it. It's on the stand next to your sleeping platform."

"I see it. Thank you, Commander."

* * *

Ser'rek Thrim stood at the tactical station on the upper level of the bridge. Here he was comfortable; much more comfortable than walking alongside the warhawks. Ser'rek's hatred of Romulans originated in the Dominion War. Ser'rek blamed the Romulans for the destruction of his ship the _Woodrow Wilson_ when they failed to assist during a Dominion attack. Only a few years ago Ser'rek would have not hesitated to kill any Romulan he saw. But Ser'rek had learned to let go of his need for vengeance. That didn't mean that Ser'rek had forgotten what they had done to him.

The turbo lift opened, and Capt. Lander walked on to the bridge. "Are we ready for departure?"

"Yes, Captain," said Lt. Ryan. "All systems checks are green."

"And our guests are settled?"

"Yes, Ma'am," said Lt. Cmdr. Hickensen as he gave Lander her chair.

Ser'rek also replied, "They got to their quarters, but Rudal and his men seemed determine not to be happy."

Lander replied by walking up to Ser'rek, "I gave you a tough assignment, Commander. How are you?"

"I am fine, Captain," said Ser'rek. Lander gave him a small knowing smile. Lander had as much reason to hate Romulans as Ser'rek did. It was Lander who had saved Ser'rek's career. She showed Ser'rek the value of putting personal feelings aside and not letting them get in the way of the job that needed to be done. If he had to work alongside the Romulans, there was no other captain in Starfleet he would rather follow.

The turbo lift opened again, and Ser'rek felt his antennae move involuntarily as Rudal walked on to the bridge. Lander turned to face the Romulan and his two guards. "Mr. Rudal, you are early."

"Am I not welcome?" Rudal looked like he was ready to pounce on Lander. Durjik had certainly picked a man with as deep seeded hatred of the Federation as himself.

Lander merely smiled. "Certainly, you are welcome. As long as you don't interfere with my crew."

"Of course," replied Rudal. Lander returned to her chair and ignored Rudal. Ser'rek also tried his best to ignore the three Romulans who were clearly trying to distract the bridge crew. But it was security's job to watch the Romulans, not Ser'rek's.

After ten annoyingly long minutes, Janeway came to the bridge. She engaged in a brief conversation with Rudal which was filled with more fake courtesies. After Janeway came Colonel Xiomek, then Sub-Commander Matech and his aid, and lastly Tribune Slavak and his two guards. It was a crowded bridge.

"Commander," said Janeway. "It is 0900 hours. It is time we get underway." Janeway sat in the captain's chair. While Lindsey stood up and spoke.

"This is the Federation taskforce to Romulus orbital command, requesting permission to break orbit."

"Romulus orbital command to _Orion_ and Federation taskforce, you are free to depart," said a Romulan voice over the speaker.

"Break orbit and proceed towards the _Terabon's_ last known location," ordered the Captain.

"Course laid in," said Lt. Mikkelson.

"Warp 7. Engage," ordered Janeway. Ser'rek watched on his tactical display as the _Orion_ , the _Hercules,_ and the _Lakota_ all broke orbit and jumped to warp. Ser'rek let out a sigh of relief as Romulus was behind him.

Janeway stood and addressed the guests. "Gentlemen and ladies, feel free to remain on the bridge if you wish. We intend to operate transparently. But if you lose interest on the bridge feel free to take advantage of this ship's amenities, including the mess hall and the off-duty lounge."

Lander stood up. "As ship's captain I recommend our mess hall. I have instructed our chef to attend to your requests. He is an expert in many different culinary arts. He has even done some Romulan cuisine."

"You will never get us to trust Federation food," said Rudal. "We have brought our own sustenance."

Ser'rek shook his head. It was going to be a long shift.

* * *

"Lieutenant, have you found anything interesting?" Alivia entered the science lab.

"Welcome, Commander," answered T'Sel. "I presume you are referring to our collection of Romulan listening devices."

"Yes, I wish to take them to Engineering for our study soon, but I was wondering if you learned anything first."

"In fact, we did. Ens. Rikka, join us. Tell the Commander what you found."

Ens. Rikka Samae came forward. She seemed a bit nervous around Alivia, which led Alivia to believe that she might still be avoiding her sister Nolean. "Yes, Lieutenant." Samae brought Alivia to the bug-like listening devices which were stored in a communications dampening field. "These devices are almost identical to the ones that _Titan_ crew found, at least as far as I can tell. I suppose your engineers will learn more once they dismantle them."

"Sounds like we will not learn much," said Alivia.

"There was one oddity," said Samae.

"Do tell, Ensign."

"One of these devices was not like the others." Samae expand the dampening field to encompass the three women. Then she picked up one of the bugs in its small glass jar. Alivia took it from her and held it to her eye. "At first glance it is the same, but under closer analysis differences can be noted."

"What kind of differences?" asked Alivia. She couldn't see any.

"Its design is the same," said Samae. "But there was some discrepancy in the materials. All these bugs required for their fine tune circuitry a metal that is difficult to replicate. This one's compositional analysis came back with different results from the others."

Alivia looked at Samae. "Are you telling me that this bug contains a different metal?"

"More accurately, the same metal, but mined from different places," answered T'Sel.

"So, they are mined from different quarries. Why is that a big deal?"

"Not different quarries," said Samae. "Different star systems."

"Can you narrow that down?"

"Yes," said Samae. "The device you're holding is made of refined metal whose ore contains a signature unique to the asteroid belt in the Bolarus system."

"The Bolian system?!" said Alivia in surprise. "That's Federation territory! How do the Romulans get metal mined from within the Federation?!"

"We have no answers for you, Commander," answered T'Sel calmly. Apparently, she did not share Alivia's emotional outrage.

"Well, what can we do? We're just scientists and engineers. Leave the detective work to the security and intelligence types," said Alivia. "Write up the full report and send it to the Captain and the Admiral. Send it to me as well. Oh, and send it to Cmdr. Grant. He can't resist a good mystery. I will take a look the bug myself. We will learn more when my engineers take it apart. In the meantime, I am going to get something to eat. Anyone care to join me in the mess hall?"

Ens. Rikka didn't answer, but Lt. T'Sel nodded her head. "Yes, now is an appropriate time for lunch. I will accompany you." Alivia and the Vulcan lieutenant left the science lab together and walked to the turbo lift. As it was in motion T'Sel spoke, "Commander, I am curious. Why did you send the listening devices to my department? Your engineers are qualified."

"Before your assignment here, the _Orion's_ science team was nominal at best," said Alivia. "And often the yellow shirts and the blue shirts are divided by petty rivalries. I wanted to stop any such silliness before it began. I thought a joint project would help us to bridge our departments."

"Logical," said T'Sel, and Alivia took it as a compliment.

"I also had another idea in mind," said Alivia. "An idea to help interdepartmental work."

"I am open to ideas," said T'Sel.

"I believe you are, but this one is a bit unconventional," Alivia prepared herself for the pitch. "There is a group of women officers from various departments that meet on a regular basis. I am extending an invitation for you to join us."

"For what purpose do they meet?"

"It is a social gathering."

"I fail to see the logic in such a gathering or why you would propose it to me."

"The primary purpose is for our relaxation, a way to ease our emotional stress in a social environment, and to provide a group of people that can support each other in difficulty. I know that might not be convincing to you, but there is another logic to it. This could be an opportunity for you to get to know a good cross section of the _Orion's_ officer corps; well, at least a cross section of the women."

"I am not sure that off duty familiarity with other officers would help us work together," objected T'Sel. "It may, in fact, be a hinderance."

"That's what I thought when I first came on board the _Orion_ , but I found it to be otherwise." T'Sel seemed hesitant, so Alivia added, "We don't meet when the ship is on yellow or red alert, so I don't expect any meetings while we are in Romulan space. I don't need an answer, now. You have time to think about it."

"I will do that, Commander."

Alivia and T'Sel came to mess hall. Alivia choose an Andorian fish dinner while T'Sel took a Vulcan salad. Alivia spotted Frank and Selina Chaput-Mikkelson sitting at a table together. "Would you mind if we joined my husband's table, Lieutenant?"

"Not at all, Commander," replied T'Sel.

Alivia set her tray next to Frank in the mess hall. T'Sel sat across from her alongside Selina. "Lieutenant, how are you feeling?" asked T'Sel of Selina. "I imagine you are in your final stages of child bearing."

"I feel like a discarded data pad," answered Selina bitterly.

"I do not understand," said T'Sel.

"She's upset at being benched," answered Frank.

"I am a fully qualified and experienced operations officer," replied Selina. "And we are going into battle. Yet I am sidelined."

"Selina, you're due in three weeks." Alivia pointed right at Selina's womb.

"Three weeks is not today."

"But it could be," said Alivia. "You know better than I do that a due date is only an estimate. Three weeks is easily within the margin of error."

"No, it is not. Most children are born within the week of the due date."

"You haven't calculated the addition of high pressure situations, such as battle," Alivia pointed out. Selina was about to object when a slight grimace came to her face. Her hands went to her womb as the baby kicked. "See, I think your little lady in there agrees with me," said Alivia.

"It's a boy," said Selina.

Alivia was surprised at Selina's sudden admission of the sex of her child. "I thought you weren't going to find out beforehand. I thought you wanted to be surprised."

"We do. We asked Dr. Randle to keep information of the gender of our child from us. But I know; I just know."

"Why would you not want to know the gender of your child? That does not seem logical." asked T'Sel. Before Selina could answered two men approached.

"Sorry we're late," said Luke Ryan, the _Orion's_ helmsman. "Janeway wouldn't allow the alpha shift bridge crew to leave until our Romulan guests all left the bridge." Following him was Johnathan Mikkelson, the ship's navigator. Johnathan sat down next to his wife Selina.

"I know what you mean," said Frank "I have been going over the security measures on the ship endlessly. I am trying to think of every Borg and every Romulan contingency. I am lucky that the human body needs nourishment, or I might never get a break."

"I can't say that things are so bad in Engineering," said Alivia. "We worked tirelessly before getting to Romulus with our anti-Borg measures. Now that they are in place, we simply need to maintain them. The only ones working overtime are Lt. Raklok and Chief Shelton. If they are not searching for Borg signatures that are looking for Romulan ghost ships."

"I wouldn't know anything about being busy," complained Selina. "I have been relieved of duty."

"You haven't been relieved of duty," said Johnathan. "You are on maternity leave. There is a big difference."

"Then why are you not on paternity leave?" countered Selina. "Why can you work, and I can't?"

"I'm not the one carrying our child," said Johnathan. "And if we were not in such important circumstances, I would take paternity leave." Johnathan put his hand to his wife's womb. "Do you really think that I would rather be on the bridge than with you and our child." Selina soften her expression and allowed Johnathan to give her a gentle kiss on the lips.

Things became subtly quieter in the mess hall. It wasn't obvious, but still Alivia noticed. She looked around expecting to see Adm. Janeway but instead she saw a trio of Romulans. They paused to scan the room, before taking a seat at a table near the window. A second later came another pair of Romulans. These two spotted the first set and deliberately choose a table far away from them.

"A friendly bunch," stated Ryan.

"The one's near the window are Tal'Aura's people. Whereas, that pair is from Donatra's military," supplied Frank. "They don't have to like each other for this mission. They just need to maintain a level of civility. If sitting across the mess hall from each other helps, then so be it." Alivia knew that Frank was still tense from his experience of Romulan debate on their home world. He clearly had no desire to have any such experience on this ship.

"Where are Senator Durjik's people?" asked Selina.

"I expect the warhawks to avoid all contact with us," replied Frank.

Alivia's attention was torn away from the Romulans when she saw a large Reman enter the room. She knew that this had to be Colonel Xiomek. Alivia was also aware that she was not the only one watching Xiomek. He was the first Reman that she had ever seen, and that was likely true of the rest of the crew.

"I wonder what he will order?" asked Selina.

"Selina, is that appropriate?" spoke Johnathan.

"What? Do you know what Remans eat?"

"I guess not," answered Johnathan.

"I find it to be an interesting question," said Frank. "Much of the Reman culture was probably destroyed during their long slavery. They will have to rebuild, perhaps from scratch."

"How?" asked Selina.

"I don't know," said Frank. "Perhaps they can search through Remus for old records of their previous culture, or perhaps they will adapt other cultures to serve them."

"Not Romulan culture, I suspect," added Ryan.

"You might be surprised," said Frank.

"Maybe they will pick up some Vulcan culture from Ambassador Spock," proposed T'Sel.

"Or maybe some practices from their Klingon allies," added Alivia.

"May the universe forbid!" said Johnathan. "One race of Klingons is enough."

"Either way this is a very important time for the Remans," said Frank. "A time for them to discover themselves. It won't be easy. But it will be interesting."

Selina looked at Frank with surprise. "That sounds like an intellectual interest, Frank. When do you become the anthropologist?"

Frank laughed. "I'm not just a brute with a gun, Selina. My father was an anthropologist. He and I have had many conversations about different species in the Federation as well as Earth's historic cultures."

Selina shook her head. "Did you know this about your husband, Alivia?"

"Most certainly. If he is not talking about weapon designs, he is talking about history and cultures," said Alivia. "And I had to remind my father-in-law countless times that I was raised on Earth. He kept asking me about Orion culture. I think he was disappointed that I actually know very little about the Orions. He has promised me a study on the cultural history of my species."

"One part of Reman culture that I have heard of," said Johnathan. "Is how their military leaders are always the first on the battle field and the last ones to leave."

"Indeed," said Frank. "For the Remans to lead is to be in front. Their battle commanders have been known to always be in the first ship or in front of the charge. They believe that the commanders should being more willing to fight than their subordinates. I suspect that is why Colonel Xiomek came himself."

"That is illogical," said T'Sel. "We need our leaders to be organizing and orchestrating. If battle commanders recklessly through away their lives in battle, then there will be no leadership in an army."

"The counter logic is that the soldiers will be more willing to rally behind a leader that is willing to endure the same danger as them," said Frank. "The army will perform better and be more loyal to their leader."

"Perhaps," said T'Sel. "Even if such an emotionally driven loyalty is achieved, it is meaningless if the leader is killed."

"True," said Frank. "And I do not hold the Remans' ideology in full, but only in part."

"Please explain," said T'Sel. Alivia loved watching her husband work his logic. Of course, working it in front of a Vulcan was the true test.

"You're right. Leaders should not throw away their lives so lightly. Their responsibilities to their subordinates requires them to remain alive. But they are also responsible for the lives of their subordinates. At times that may mean risking their own lives to save another. I wouldn't hesitate to risk my life for one of my officers if I thought I had a reasonable chance of success."

"In a case of necessity, I can see your point," said T'Sel. "But would it not be wiser to send someone else?"

"And ask them to risk their life for my responsibility?" countered Frank. "Yes, at times you're right. But my subordinates need to know when it comes to my responsibility for this ship and its crew I am willing to put even my own life on the line. If I am willing, so will they. And if I ask them to risk their lives, they know that I understand what I am asking them to do."

"You contradict yourself," responded T'Sel. "You say that you would risk your own life, but that you would also order a subordinate to risk his or her life. Which is it?"

"Depends on the situation. Sometimes you need to hold back and let someone else take the risk; other times it's you that needs to jump into the fray."

"How do you know the right response in the right situation?"

"Sometimes you don't," replied Frank simply. "You do the best you can to analyze the situation and make a decision. But you don't always have all the information you need or the proper amount of time to make a good decision. You just have to do the best you can."

T'Sel still looked skeptical. "You make some curious arguments, Commander. I am not sure I agree, but I am not willing to dismiss them yet."

"Maybe we should pick up this discussion again at our debate club," said Alivia.

"Debate club?" asked Ryan. "This is the first I've heard of it."

"I just made it up," replied Alivia. "But at the rate these two are going, we might as well start one."

"I don't want to bore you will all my musings," said Frank.

"You bore me with them. Why not everyone else?" Alivia took her shot. "Besides, you would love it."

"I would find it very curious," said T'Sel. "I would like to hear Earth logic."

"There, see." Alivia smiled at her husband.

"Honey, what have you gotten me into?"

* * *

Ta'Sem suspiciously used the two wooden sticks that came with her Earth cuisine. She was told that it was a form of raw fish from Earth's oceans. She had performed her own scan of the food to make sure it didn't contain any toxins that were harmful to her Romulan biology. She tried her best to pick up the piece of food but failed to work the two sticks appropriately.

The master chef of the mess hall, a tall human whose name Ta'Sem recalled was Richard Matthews, approached. "How is the food?"

"Fine," was all Sub-Commander Matech said, but Ta'Sem had seen his face light up at his first taste of the Romulan dish he had ordered.

"Good," replied the patient human who seemed impossible to offend. "I see you are having a little trouble, Sub-Lieutenant."

Ta'Sem set down the wooden sticks. "How do your people eat with these primitive utensils?"

"Not all of us are very good at it. The sushi you ordered is a regional dish that is common on the eastern shores of our eastern continent. The chopsticks take some practice." The man picked up a nearby four-pronged utensil. "You can use the fork if you wish."

"Thank you. I appreciate it," said Ta'Sem with a grateful voice and a smile. The man bowed at the waist and proceeded to check on the other Romulan table.

"He seems friendly," said Matech. "And so do you."

Ta'Sem gave Matech the same smile she had given the human. "It pays to be friendly. You can learn so much from friends."

Matech gave her a scowl. Ta'Sem kept smiling as she lifted the sushi to her mouth. As soon as she bit into it, its exotic flavors filled her mouth. She had never eaten anything like it before. She had to prevent herself from expressing her amazement aloud.

"You are indeed here to learn, aren't you?" asked Matech.

"Of course, I am. We all are here to learn about the Borg."

"You know what I meant," replied Matech.

Ta'Sem dropped her smile and polite tone. "Of course, I know what you meant. But I don't go talking about it either."

"You know it wasn't my choice to have you accompany me?" said Matech.

"I am aware of that, Sub-Commander. I am here to help. What I learn I will pass on to you."

"What have you learned so far?"

"On my first day? Well, let's see." Ta'Sem had resumed her polite and friendly tone. "This ship's crew is inexperienced yet closely knit. Adm. Janeway at least appears to be more concerned with the Borg than with us. That could however be a clever mask or her diplomatic skills at play. The crew on the other hand are far more concerned with us."

"How do you figure all that?"

"Just observations. Everyone in this room is paying attention to us, even if they are trying to hide it. They are suspicious, and given their past experiences with Romulans, who could blame them?"

"That's all you got?"

"I also noted the presence of Capt. Shelby, a Federation expert on the Borg. However, she is currently the captain of a _Defiant_ class starship named the _Resistant_. Its last known location was on Earth defense, but I would wager it is on the Neutral Zone as we speak, waiting for a call."

"A call to attack Romulus?"

"Possibly. Or maybe to rescue this small fleet if someone were to attack it, or maybe to come and fight the Borg on our behalf. Your guess is as good as mine, Sub-Commander."

"I doubt that. Tell me more about this crew."

Ta'Sem took a subtle glance around. She spotted a young Bajoran woman in a blue uniform sitting amongst other blue uniforms. Across the mess hall was another Bajoran woman, this one in a yellow uniform. The yellow clothed woman approached the table, but a subtle look from the other caused her to turn away and sit at a table of yellow shirts, with her back to the first table. "Do you see those two Bajoran women? They are sisters, but they are not getting along."

"What? How would you know they are sisters?"

"They have same first name, which for Bajorans is the family name. And they listed each other as nearest kin on their service records."

"You memorized the service record of everyone on this ship?" asked Matech in surprise.

"Almost," answered Ta'Sem casually.

"What bearing could a sibling spat have on our mission?"

"Oh, nothing. Just a fun fact."

Matech moaned. "Any other observations you would like to share, Sub-Lieutenant?"

"Yes," Ta'Sem pointed with her utensil at her plate. "This sushi is really good. I took it just to look diplomatic, but it is fabulous. You should try it." Matech gave her a disgusted look and stopped asking questions, which was exactly what Ta'Sem wanted. She returned to her meal, enjoying every last bite of sushi.

* * *

Samae sat down at a table with a number of scientists and medical officers. She joined in the conversation immediately and was enjoying her lunch break. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Nolean approaching. Her heart raced a little faster. She didn't want her sister to sit next to her while she was with her colleagues.

Samae looked up at her sister and tried to put a smile on her face. But she must have been too slow, because Nolean stopped in her tracks. A sad look came to Nolean's face, and she turned and moved towards another table.

The sense of shame in Samae was intense. She might as well have stood up and slapped her sister in the face. The expression of pain on Nolean's face broke her heart. Nolean merely wanted to be with her sister, but Samae didn't want to be with her in public. Nolean was right, Samae was ashamed of her sister.

Samae decided that she needed to apologize to her sister. She needed to let Nolean know that she loved her.

But not right now.

* * *

"Commander, how are our Romulan guests?" asked Adm. Janeway as she entered the conference room.

"Fine as far as I know," answered Lindsey. She had taken the conference room as her own office since yielding the captain's ready room to Adm. Janeway. At the moment she was looking at a display screen.

"Where are they now?" asked Janeway. Lindsey tried to fake a confused expression, but it didn't fool Janeway. "Commander, I can see that you are watching them on the internal sensors."

Lindsey gave the Admiral an innocent shrug of her shoulders. "I just want to keep an eye on them. I can see their Romulan life signatures on this screen. I can't tell who is who, but I can guest. The warhawks haven't left their quarters all day. Tal'Aura's group have also returned to their quarters, while Matech and his clerk appear to be on a tour of the ship. Colonel Xiomek is heading to the bridge. He had asked to stand watch on the night shift."

"I appreciate your diligence, Commander," said Janeway. "But I need you to get some sleep tonight. I am about to retire myself."

"I understand, Admiral." Lindsey was just about to close the screen when she saw something that wasn't right.

"Good, Commander, I need everyone at their…Is something wrong, Commander?"

Lindsey looked up at Adm. Janeway. "No, nothing, I just thought of something else I need to do before going to bed." Lindsey quickly closed the screen. "Besides, Lt. Cmdr. Grant probably has one of his security officers watching the Romulans all night long." Lindsey stood up and indicated her intention to leave.

"Very well, Commander. You are dismissed." Lindsey walked towards the door, but Janeway called after her. "You will keep me informed if you notice something amiss about our Romulan friends.

Lindsey could tell the Admiral was suspicious of her sudden change of tasks. "Of course, Admiral. If our Romulan guests act out of line, you will know immediately."

"Thank you, Commander. As you were." Lindsey turned and walked out the door. What she hadn't told the Admiral was that it wasn't the Romulans who had disturbed her, but Vulcans.

* * *

The young Vulcan woman entered the science lab and walked straight to a computer terminal. She was hoping that no one would notice her, but she was more than prepared for whoever would approach her.

"Ensign, identify yourself."

The young Vulcan woman turned to see an older Vulcan woman addressing her. "Lt. T'Sel, I am Ens. T'Kem, a science officer on the _Hercules_."

"Please state your reason for being on the _Orion_ and in my lab in particular," said Lt. T'Sel.

"I was assigned by Capt. Jenner to study the Borg threat. I heard that the _Orion_ had access to more advanced research on the Borg, in particular Ens. Annika Hansen's works. I wish to access those reports for my study."

"You are correct, Ensign. But I would be surprised if you had the clearance to access those files."

"Could you grant me access, Lieutenant?"

"No, Ensign," said Lt. T'Sel. "I have clearance as the _Orion's_ science officer. But I do not have the permission to grant others access. If you wish to open those files you will have to ask Capt. Lander, Adm. Janeway, or your own captain."

"Understood, Lieutenant. I have observed that humans do not always follow their own rules. I thought maybe this was one such case. I stand corrected."

"Very good. You are dismissed, Ensign." Lt. T'Sel returned to her work and the young Vulcan woman slipped out of the science lab. As she walked down a hallway, she had to forcefully unclench her fists. The hard-wired access points that were supposed to give her access to the _Orion's_ main computer were offline. Someone had found them and disabled them. This was preventing the Vulcan operative from doing her job. It was frustrating. The woman ducked into a storage room and forced herself to go through some Vulcan meditations to suppress her growing emotions.

T'Sel was just finishing for the night when Capt. Lander walked into the science lab in a hurry. "Lt. T'Sel!"

"Yes, Captain," reported T'Sel. She noted that her captain was a bit alarmed.

"Was there a Vulcan woman in this lab besides yourself?"

"Yes, Captain. An Ens. T'Kem from the _Hercules._ "

"Have you ever seen her before?

"No, Captain."

"What did she want?"

"To access Ens. Annika Hansen's research on the Borg. Curious, Captain, why are you interested in the ensign?"

"That's my concern, Lieutenant. Which way did she go?"

"Out that door and to the right. Beyond that I do not know."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Then in a rush Capt. Lander was out the door. T'Sel stared at the door for a while in confusion. But after a while she decided to let the Captain worry about whatever it was. Human emotions were confusing.

* * *

The Vulcan operative had calmed her emotions sufficiently. There was more than one way to access a starship's main computer. She straightened her blue uniform and walked towards the door that led back to the hallway.

As the door opened there was a figure blocking her way. Before the Vulcan woman could identify the person in front of her, she was suddenly pushed backwards violently. She landed on her rear, but instantly was back on her feet. She then found herself staring at a human woman holding a phaser in her hand. "Ta'Prim! What are you doing here?!" barked the woman.

Agent Ta'Prim slowly raised her hands in surrender. "Capt. Lander, I am merely doing what I always do. I seek to protect the Federation."

"Not good enough, Ta'Prim," said Lander.

"Holding me hostage will not gain you anything, Captain."

"Does it feel bad to be someone else's prisoner, Ta'Prim?" said the Captain sarcastically.

"I have no emotional reaction to this situation," answered Ta'Prim. "I am merely stating a logical fact."

"Okay, try this logic. You and Section 31 have proven yourselves to be untrustworthy in the past. Therefore, I do not trust you now. Thus, I asked you again. What is Section 31 doing on board my ship?!"

"Information gathering," answered Ta'Prim. "If we are to protect the Federation against the Borg, then we need to know more about them. I came to get access to Ens. Annika Hansen's files."

"I am surprised that you don't already have access. Wouldn't Section 31 be able to get such information from Starfleet Command."

"All things related to _Voyager_ and their encounters with the Borg have been locked down. Very few people have access."

"And Section 31 is not one of them," said Lander. "I intend to keep it that way." Lander had a smile on her face. The human woman was for some reason receiving emotional pleasure from Ta'Prim's situation.

"How about an exchange of information?" asked Ta'Prim. Lander gave a noncommitting shrug. "What if I were to tell you that this Borg threat is not a Romulan invention."

"How would you know that?"

"Section 31 still has a few friends in the Tal Shiar, and I have checked myself with the warhawks. None of the big players on Romulus are behind any fictious Borg conspiracies."

"How did you check on the warhawks?"

"Section 31 has its methods."

"Methods like planting your own bugs in the Romulan Senate Chambers," said Lander. "It was clever of you to disguise them as Tal Shiar bugs, but next time try to use Romulan metals."

"Good advice," said Ta'Prim, and she meant it. She had seen Ens. Rikka's report on the bugs. She had not anticipated the _Orion's_ science staff performing a compositional analysis. "I have shared what I know. Now is the time where you share, Captain."

"It was certainly nice of you to share, although I suspect you have not shared all you know," replied Lander. "I am certainly not about to give you access to those documents. I simply do not know what it is you plan on doing with them, and I do not trust you, Agent Ta'Prim. If you want to lend your help to this situation then do so openly."

"That is not how Section 31 works," said Ta'Prim. Throughout the whole conversation Ta'Prim had been thinking of a way out of this situation, and now she was willing to try something. She moved her eyes quickly to a location behind Lander and slightly tipped her head in that direction. Lander fell for the trick and turned her head in the same direction. She also moved her phaser away from Ta'Prim. It was only a slight movement, but it was enough. Ta'Prim quickly double tapped her combadge and a preprogramed transporter whisked her away from the _Orion_ and placed her safely in her quarters on the _Hercules_.

* * *

Lindsey clipped her phaser back onto her belt and stared at the empty storage room. Section 31, the organization that had kidnapped her and tried to start a war with Romulus, was now on board her ship! What would they do? How could Lindsey stop them?

Lindsey realized that she needed to tell someone. But who could she tell? She couldn't risk a transmission to Adm. Rose or Capt. Picard, less the Romulans intercept it. Adm. Janeway had not been read in on Section 31's existence, but didn't she as flag officer of the fleet have the right to know?

Lindsey decided to inform the Admiral in the morning. That night Lindsey dreamed of the Orion fighting the Borg. But in the captain's chair, instead of Lindsey or even Janeway, Agent Shepherd of Section 31 sat.

* * *

Ser'rek Thrim sat in the captain's chair. It was the gamma shift, when all the main officers were asleep for the night. Adm. Janeway, Capt. Lander, and Cmdr. Hickensen were all getting their rest. This left Ser'rek in command.

"Status report. How long until we reach the _Terabon's_ last known location?"

"Another five hours," said the gamma shift navigator. "That puts our arrival during the alpha shift."

"Not looking forward to being the one on the bridge when we find the Borg, Ensign?"

"No, sir." The young man hesitated. "There is a part of me that wants to be in that glorious fight, but the more cautious part of me hopes we don't find a Borg cube at all. It that alright, Commander?"

"That is fine, Ensign. No Starfleet officer should ever want to fight." Ser'rek recalled his own warmongering ideas only a few years ago. He was a much better officer after giving those ideas up. Ser'rek resisted the urge to look back at the Reman Colonel Xiomek. He wondered if a Reman military man would agree with his statement. "However, every Starfleet officer needs to be ready to fight. His ship, his crewmates, and the entire Federation is counting on it."

"They can count on me, sir," said the ensign.

"Good," said Ser'rek. He could tell the young man meant what he said, but he could also tell the ensign had no idea what he was really saying. Then again that was true of all of them at one time.

A call came in from Engineering. "Lt. Raklok to the bridge. We have a strange sensor reading ahead."

"This is Cmdr. Thrim. Is it Romulan?"

"Not sure, sir. It is at the edge of our range. I do not believe we could detect a cloaked ship at that range. I believe we will know more as we get closer."

"Where is it?" asked Thrim as information arrived on the captain's chair's data screen that folded out of the arm rest.

"It is ahead and 30° to our starboard. Its heading is further to our starboard at an angle of…" Raklok stopped speaking.

Ser'rek waited for a bit. "Lieutenant, is something wrong?"

"The object has just changed heading. It is now on an intercept course with us."

"Intercept course? Are you sure?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Keep the bridge informed, Lieutenant." Ser'rek stood up. "Helm decrease speed to warp 3. Red alert." The alarm sounded, and red lights flashed across the bridge and throughout the ship. Ser'rek tapped his combadge. "Adm. Janeway and Capt. Lander report to the bridge immediately. Possible hostile craft on an intercept course." Both the Captain and the Admiral acknowledged. "Ensign, you might get your chance to be in battle after all."

* * *

"Do we know if its Borg?" asked Alivia who had arrived early for her shift just as the red alert sounded.

"No, not yet," said Lt. Raklok. "But it does not look Romulan."

"Systems check. Is this ship ready for battle?" asked Alivia, and all her subordinates were giving her status reports on the warp core, shield emitters, phasers banks, and whatever other systems she requested. Also, the main shift was entering Engineering. Red alert was an all hands on deck situation, and the best officers were getting to their posts.

Chief Petty Officer Shelton arrived. He and Raklok had been covering all shifts, each taking a shift individually and working together for the third. He immediately stood next to the imposing Klingon. "Any update?" asked Alivia.

"I still cannot tell if it is Borg or not," said Raklok. "Ens. Annika Hansen said she was reporting to the bridge. She will look at our data from there. If it is Borg, she will know."

"Good. In the meantime, we must assume it is Borg and prepare ourselves." Lt. Raklok and CPO Shelton exchanged a strange look, which promoted Alivia to ask, "Is there something else?"

Raklok stood straight and proud. "Requesting permission for Chief Shelton and I to arm ourselves."

"You are engineers, not security personnel. I will not have my crew running off to battle, when there is a ship to run."

"We will not leave our posts," said Shelton. "We will only defend ourselves, those nearest us, and the equipment itself."

"Cmdr. Grant once told me the responsibility of an engineer to protect the ship'svital systems," said Raklok

"Did my husband really say that?"

"On my honor," replied Raklok.

"Commander," spoke Shelton. "There have been reports of the Borg drones transporting into Engineering. The _Enterprise's_ Engineering section was overrun with Borg drones in the Battle of Sector 001."

Alivia gave thought to the request. "Permission granted." She then walked to a security box on the wall. "Security access, O'Hara, Alivia, Omega, Theta, 5-5-9." The box opened, and she removed a phaser. After a moment's thought, Alivia clipped the phaser to her own belt, then grabbed two more.

But when she turned to face her two engineers, she saw Raklok lay a Klingon bat'leth near his station and Shelton clipping a d'k tahg to his belt. Alivia was so surprised to see the timid human wearing a Klingon combat dagger, that she spoke out loud. "Chief, what are you doing?"

Shelton merely looked up at her and said in a calm voice, "It is a good day to die, Commander."

* * *

"Yes, sir," said Agent Ta'Prim to the image of a human male in a black leather uniform fasten at the shoulders. "This does not appear to be a fake. The sensors on the _Hercules_ have detected what is likely a Borg cube in Romulan space. The _Orion_ and the _Lakota_ have also detected it."

"So it's not a Romulan deception as we first thought," said the man transmitting from Federation Space in a deeply encoded frequency. "We need you to get on board the _Orion_."

"Sir, I cannot hide well on the _Orion_. My cover is blown. Capt. Lander already knows I am here, and there is only one other Vulcan on the _Orion_. Once they see me, they will know I am not a member of the crew, and Lander will find me."

"Then don't be seen, Agent. The _Orion_ holds both Adm. Janeway's and Seven of Nine's information on the Borg. If there is a way to eliminate the Borg threat once and for all, then we need you to take it. Even if Janeway or Lander object. The Federation must be protected at all costs."

"Understood, sir. It is logical." Then Ta'Prim ended the transmission and remotely programed a transporter to beam her to the _Orion_.

* * *

"Johnathan!"

"I know. Red alert. I'm going to the bridge." Johnathan Mikkelson had just pulled his pants on and was pulling his uniform over his head.

"Johnathan!" shouted Selina a second time from their shared bedroom.

"What? You hear the sirens. I gotta go."

Selina walked out of the bedroom. "Johnathan, it's time."

"No, it's not. You are on maternity leave. There is no way I am allowing you on the bridge."

"Johnathan, you don't understand. It's time."

"It is time for you to go back to bed." Johnathan tried to escort his wife back to bed, but she grabbed his shoulder with surprising strength.

"Honey, sweetie, my water broke. It's time!"

* * *

Lindsey faced the turbo lift as it opened. Rudal and his two guards came on the bridge. He spoke in a loud demanding voice. "What is going on here?"

Lindsey walked up to him and faced him squarely. "A possible Borg ship is coming for us, Mr. Rudal. There is a station for you over there. Stay there and do not interfere with bridge operations. You are an observer here, and I will not allow you to do anything that will endanger my crew. Do I make myself clear?"

"Very clear, murderess," replied Rudal, but he and his two guards went obediently to their places next to the other Romulans and Colonel Xiomek. Sub-Commander Matech gave Lindsey an assuring nod, implying that he would make sure the Federation-hating Romulans behaved.

Lindsey walked down to the lower bridge and sat next to Adm. Janeway. She gave Lindsey an eyebrow raising smirk that indicated she approved of Lindsey's handling of the situation.

"Seven, do we know anything more about the inbound vessel?" asked Janeway.

"It is most certainly Borg," said Ens. Hansen. "A cube to be exact. It is entering visual range right now."

"On screen," said Janeway who stood up to see her enemy.

On the viewscreen appeared a large cube shaped vessel. It had no discernable front, back, top, or bottom. Nor did it have an obvious bridge. The whole vessel appeared black with greenish lights emanating from various places within its hull. Lindsey, along with everyone on the bridge, stared at the frightening vessel coming towards them.

Admiral Janeway slowly sat back down and initiated a fleet wide broadcast. "Attention all Starfleet crew and personnel on the _Orion_ , the _Lakota_ , and the _Hercules_. We have encountered the Borg. All hands to battle stations."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 _Captain's log; stardate 58083.3: We have found the Borg._

Henry stared at the Borg cube as it approached. Adm. Janeway issued orders. "Full stop. I want them to come to us. Send a transmission to Starfleet Command. Tell them that we have encountered the Borg and are preparing to engage. And allow our Romulan and Reman observers the ability to contact their respective parties. Give them access to our communications and sensor data, as long as it doesn't prevent my ability to talk to our ships."

Henry added to the chorus of 'yes Ma'ams' and sent the message to Starfleet Command. Then he focused on the status of the _Orion_. Henry was working at the operations console which was on the railing above the command chairs. He took this station since the normal operations officer, Selina Chaput-Mikkelson, was on maternity leave. It worked out fine, since Henry's normal spot was taken. While Adm. Janeway occupied the captain's chair, Lindsey had moved to Henry's normal first officer's chair. The other chair in the trio of command chairs on the lower bridge was occupied by Capt. Shelby, who was a Borg expert. Joining Henry above the railing stood the Andorian Lt. Cmdr. Ser'rek Thrim at tactical. Lindsey had made it clear that she wanted her best officers on the bridge if it came to battle.

The only one missing was Johnathan Mikkelson. Henry looked at the viewscreen again to gage how long before the Borg cube came in weapons' range. Johnathan better get here soon. Henry saw Lindsey look up and over her shoulder at him. Her eyes carried the same thought. Henry nodded and tapped his combadge. "Bridge to Lt. Mikkelson, where are you, Lieutenant? You are needed on the bridge." No response. "Computer, where is Lt. Mikkelson?"

"Lt. Mikkelson is in sick bay."

* * *

Selina screamed in pain. Johnathan tried to lead her in the breathing exercises they had learned, but he himself was in a panic. Why did Dr. Randel recommend those birthing classes only for Johnathan to forget all of it when the moment actually came?

Johnathan and the nurses got Selina up on the biobed. Dr. Randel approached. "How long has she been experiencing contractions?"

"She just started a few minutes ago."

"Okay, just stay there, Lieutenant, and keep holding her hand." Johnathan felt shooting pain in his hand as Selina was practically crushing it. Johnathan didn't even want to think about what kind of pain would cause his normally gentle wife to exude such strength.

"Bridge to Lt. Mikkelson, where are you, Lieutenant?" came Henry's voice from his combadge. Johnathan ignored it.

"The bridge is calling," said Selina between contractions.

"I need to be beside you." Selina tried to shake her head, but pain prevented her from speaking.

"Lieutenant," spoke Dr. Randle. "While I agree with you, it is my obligation as a superior officer to remind you of your duty." Randle pointed at the red lights. "This is a red alert, and you are a bridge officer. You are needed there."

"I can't leave her," said Johnathan.

"I know how you feel, Lieutenant, I do. But medically speaking, my staff and I can handle this. I give you my word as a physician and a friend, I will do everything in my power to protect your wife and child."

Johnathan was about to object when Selina pulled him close. "Go. The Captain needs you." Selina released him with a shove. "Go!"

Johnathan walked backwards out of sickbay. Then he turned and ran down the hall towards the turbo lift.

* * *

"Five minutes to weapons' range," reported the ensign at navigation.

"You might get your battle experience after all, Ensign," replied Ser'rek from the tactical station. Lindsey realized that they were continuing an earlier conversation.

Just as Lindsey was asking herself where Johnathan was, he appeared on the bridge. Lindsey intercepted him on his way to his station. "Care to tell me why you were delayed, Lieutenant?"

"Selina is in labor," answered Johnathan.

All Lindsey's anger vanished in a moment. "Of all the bad timings."

"May I take my station, Captain?" asked Johnathan.

"Only if your mind is here on the bridge."

"The way I see it, Captain, I now have double the reasons to do every I can to defend this ship."

"Take your station, Lieutenant." Lindsey returned to her seat.

"Problem, Commander?" asked Janeway.

"No, Admiral."

Johnathan replaced the ensign at navigation and reported, "Borg cube dropping out of warp. They are in weapons' range."

"They're hailing," said Henry.

"Let's hear it," said Janeway.

The blood chilling collective voice came over the bridge's audio system. "We are the Borg. Resistance is futile. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service ours." Lindsey shivered. It was the first time that she had heard that voice in person.

"Friendly as always," said Janeway sardonically. "Let me talk back." Henry gave the Admiral a nod, and Janeway took a deep breath. "This is Adm. Kathryn Janeway on board the Federation Starship _Orion_ to Borg vessel. You are in Romulan space and are not welcome here."

"Irrelevant. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

"I don't think so. I have resisted the Borg in the past," said Janeway. "Surely you remember that. The Federation will stand beside our Romulan allies. We will not allow you to get a foothold in the Alpha Quadrant. Leave now and return to the Delta Quadrant."

"Irrelevant. Resistance is futile."

"The Borg have locked on us with a tractor beam," reported Henry.

"Their standard attack pattern," added Capt. Shelby.

"Luckily we can adapt too," said Janeway. "Activate feedback pulse." Lindsey watched as the _Orion_ sent energy directly through the Borg's tractor beam. A small explosion could be seen on the Borg cube where the beam emitter was destroyed.

"Feedback pulse was effective," said Seven of Nine, who stood at the science console which had been modified for her use. "But they will adapt."

"Let's not give them the time," said Janeway. "Remodulate our shields. Begin fleet attack pattern Epsilon. Fire phasers and quantum torpedoes at the near side of the cube."

Lindsey watched as the _Orion_ charged forward, firing both phasers and torpedoes as Ser'rek Thrim directed them. Lindsey knew from drills that the _Hercules_ was right behind them, using the _Orion_ as a shield and preparing for its own close-range assault. The _Lakota_ was moving above them.

"Helm, break to starboard on my mark," said Janeway. "Now!" The _Orion_ leapt to the right and the _Hercules_ began pounding the same spot as the _Orion_. Explosions appeared at the focal point of the attack.

"The cube is rotating," said Shelby. "Trying to hide the damaged portion from us."

"As we predicted," said Janeway.

Indeed, Lindsey saw the cube begin a counter clockwise spin. A Borg cube had no bridge, no front nor back, and no weak side nor blind spot. One side did not matter anymore than another. "One difference, Admiral," said Lindsey. "It is spinning the opposite way. The _Lakota_ will not be able to hit the damaged point."

"Then we will," said Janeway. "Fire on the damaged side. Have the _Lakota_ come from the opposite side."

The _Orion_ continued to circle the cube, firing at the same spot. Suddenly the Borg cube reversed its spin, presenting an undamaged face to the _Orion_. Then the cube opened fire on the _Orion._ The ship shock violently.

"We've taken damage, but not too bad," said Henry.

"The Borg are adapting their weaponry to our shield frequencies," said Seven of Nine. "I am remodulating, but they will adapt faster than I will. I suggest we move out of the direct line of fire."

" _Heracles,_ we need fire support," said Janeway. The _Heracles_ came behind the _Orion_ and fired quantum torpedoes. This brought some relief to the _Orion_ , but Lindsey was concerned. Was it her imagination, or did the Borg deliberately arrange for the _Orion_ to take the brunt of the attack?

"Shields at 80%," reported Henry. Despite her first officer's calming voice, Lindsey was not put at ease.

Janeway ordered, "All ships, continue firing on the damaged face of the cube. When you don't have a shot, target any weapons or tractor beam emitters you locate."

The battle continued for another ten minutes. The three Federation ships continued to inflict damage, but the cube was already showing signs of regeneration. Each Federation ship, however, was slowly weakening.

"Admiral," spoke Shelby. "The longer we fight the better the odds get for the Borg. Perhaps we should retreat and regather our forces."

Colonel Xiomek spoke. "I agree, Adm. Janeway. I have seen the enemy. My Reman soldiers and I will join in this battle."

"As will the Romulan military," said Sub-Commander Matech. "I think all of Romulus will fight against this enemy." Rudal remained silent.

"I'm not ready to retreat. I want to try and hit them one more time," said Janeway. "Bring us around for another pass. Target all torpedoes and phasers on a single point."

The _Orion_ came around for another attack run. But the cube suddenly began to rotate on no particular axis at all, causing all six sides of the cube to alternate in front of the _Orion_. Then the cube locked on with a tractor beam.

"They have us," said Shelby.

"Feedback pulse!" ordered Janeway.

"No effect," responded Seven of Nine.

"Remodulate shields!"

"Also, no effect."

Janeway stood up and looked at Seven. "How are they adapting so quickly?"

"They are using multiple emitters and different frequencies." Seven looked up at the viewscreen. "Each time the cube presents a new face to us they are using a different emitter. I have already counted thirty-six different tractor beam emitters."

"Shields down to 30%!" exclaimed Henry. "How?!"

"They're using the tractor beam to drain our shields," said Shelby. "In seconds we will lose shielding."

"Shields to 25%"

"Then they can fire directly on our hull!" said Ryan.

"Shields at 20%"

"Or board us!" said Lindsey in horror. She looked at Janeway who acknowledge her comment.

"Shields at 10%"

"Lander to all security personnel. Prepare to defend the ship. We are about to be boarded."

"Shields down!"

* * *

"Cmdr. Grant to all security officers. Make sure you are able to rotate phaser frequencies quickly. We've all trained for this. Let's go."

"Commander, are the Borg really coming?"

Grant looked at the young man holding his phaser rifle. They seemed to get younger every year, and Grant was not that old. "Yes, Ensign." Grant continued down the hallway. "Grant, to the bridge. Most of my people are guarding critical sections and safe zones, the rest…"

"No time, Commander," came Capt. Lander's voice, cutting Grant off. "Our shields are down, and we have Borg transporter signatures on all decks. Hold them at bay until we restore shields."

"Copy that. Grant to security. We have Borg on all decks."

"Commander!" shouted the young ensign as he fired his phaser. A tall Borg drone took the shot in the chest and fell to the deck. Some primordial instinct told Grant to turn around. As he did, a Borg drone materialized in front of him. He took it down in one shot.

"Ensign, watch my six. The Collective is capable of precision transport."

"Yes, sir."

Grant proceeded forward with his partner walking backwards behind him. Grant came across two more Borg drones. He shot and killed one, but the second one absorbed his phaser beam with personal shielding. "Ensign! Switch!" shouted Grant. He spun around while changing his phaser's frequency. As he did so a third drone came from behind. Grant dropped him with one shot. He then switched back to his original direction and saw that the Ensign had succeeded in killing the second drone. "Ensign, change frequency. I am sure they have adapted to your weapon."

"I only hope we can adapt faster."

"You and me both, Ensign. Keep moving."

* * *

T'Sel moved about the overcrowded science lab. The lab was one of the designated safe areas for nonessential crew. T'Sel was aware that some interpretations of her responsibility as chief science officer would include these people who had sought shelter in her lab. While not sure if she agreed with that logic, T'Sel decided that she would do what was expected of her.

T'Sel opened a security box and pulled out a phaser. She checked its frequency settings and clipped it to her belt.

"Lieutenant?" T'Sel faced Ens. Rikka Samae who was speaking. "Are we supposed to arm ourselves?"

"No, Ensign. Phasers in untrained hands would be illogical in this circumstance. Your energies would be best spent making sure that our guests stay calm."

There was a sudden scream. T'Sel turned quickly and saw a Borg drone materialize within the lab. T'Sel took aim and fired. The drone dropped to the deck. "Everyone, stay away." T'Sel reached the drone and ripped out its mechanical eye. She then destroyed it with the heel of her boot.

"Why did you do that?" asked Rikka.

"We cannot allow the Collective to see in here. Or it will transport more drones." T'Sel returned the phaser to her belt but kept sweeping the room with her eyes.

* * *

"By the warp core!" shouted a security officer. Alivia ducked at her console as three security officers converged on a single Borg drone who was reaching out to the warp core. Two phaser beams were blocked by the drone's adapting shielding, but a third beam burned through the Borg's armor.

"Was this what is was like when the Romulans over ran the original _Orion_?!" shouted Alivia over the roar of battle.

"No!" replied Shelton. "This is worse! The Romulans never actually got into Engineering!"

"Where are we with the ship's shields?!" shouted Alivia again.

"We have transferred power from other systems, but their tractor beam keeps draining it," answered Lt. Vibee.

"We need to figure out how to stop the power drain from that tractor beam. Where is that Borg woman; where is Hansen?"

"She's on the bridge."

* * *

Lindsey fired at another drone, but the Borg had adapted to her phaser frequency. Just as the drone approached her, a phaser beam came from above and struck it down.

"I am running out of frequency options, Captain!" said Ser'rek from above the railing, holding the phaser rifle which he had just used to save Lindsey.

"So am I!" replied Lindsey as she switched her hand-held phaser to its next setting. Janeway had ordered all the phasers on the ship to be programmed to rotate frequencies and to be different from one another. Thus, the Collective would have to adapt to various phaser frequencies. But this was only slowing the Collective down. Lindsey could see that they were not winning this battle.

Ens. Hansen's voice rose about the din of battle. "Engineering is working on stopping the power drain from the tractor beam. I can help them from here, but I require the ability to focus." As if to accentuate her point Hansen fired her phaser at an approaching drone.

"This Adm. Janeway to the fleet. We need that tractor beam broken." Lindsey couldn't hear Capt. Benteen's response, but she knew it wasn't good. Lindsey could hardly think about what to do next while she had to fight for her life. Seven of Nine was not the only one having a challenging time focusing on her job.

More drones appeared on the bridge. Lindsey realized that this was the end. She would die on the bridge of her own ship. With a strange sense of serenity Lindsey felt that it was fitting. She would die just like her hero, Theresa Taylor, Captain of the original _Orion_.

"Capt. Taylor!" Lindsey said out loud as an idea came to her mind.

"What are you talking about, Commander?" asked Adm. Janeway, but Lindsey ignored her.

"Computer, deck 1 is experiencing a hull breach. Activate atmospheric containment fields."

"No hull breach detected on the deck 1," answered the computer, and the look on Janeway's face was questioning Lindsey's sanity.

"Captain's override. Do it!" The computer beeped, and Lindsey saw the flicker of an energy field erected around the bridge's exterior walls. "Hansen! Can you program that field to block Borg transporters?"

"Yes, I will need 40 seconds," said the Borg woman.

"Henry, Ser'rek, cover her!"

Lindsey's first and second officers abandoned their posts and stood in front of Seven of Nine. A Borg drone approached. Lindsey had no shot. Both Henry and Ser'rek fired, but the drone shielded itself. Henry gave Ser'rek some hand signals. Both of them grabbed their phaser rifles by the barrels and held them like clubs. Henry darted forward, then slid on his knees. He swung his phaser in an arc that hit the drone behind the knee. At the same time Ser'rek delivered a mighty blow with his phaser/club across the drone's neck and shoulder. The combination caused the drone to fall. Then Ser'rek dropped his rifle and with his bare hands ripped out the tubes and mechanisms in the drone's head. Finally, the drone ceased moving. Henry picked himself up off the deck floor, while Ser'rek's antennae moved back and forth angrily.

"Got it!" said Seven of Nine. "The Borg can no longer beam on to the bridge."

"Secure the bridge!" said Janeway in a commanding voice. "Seven, assist Engineering. We need shields to this whole ship." The Janeway faced Lindsey. "Nice work, Commander."

"Thank you. But it won't last long, I fear."

"We need every second we can buy."

* * *

"We are trying it now, Ensign." Alivia hit a few commands at her console. She received a negative beep. "No effect, Ensign. Do you have any more ideas?"

"Yes," came Ens. Hansen's voice from the bridge. "Let's try to…"

"Commander! Behind you!" shouted Vibee.

Alivia spun around just in time to see a Borg drone with its left arm extended towards her. Alivia ducked quickly as two tubules came out from the back of the drone's hand. Alivia's quick reflexes and Orion agility narrowly prevented her from becoming assimilated into the Borg Collective.

Alivia rolled on the ground away from the drone. The drone turned to face her, when suddenly its head was removed from its shoulders. As the limp drone body fell to the floor, Alivia saw Raklok standing over his fallen foe, bat'leth in hand. He shouted something in Klingon that Alivia desired no translation for.

"Commander, are you there?" came Hansen's voice.

"Yes, I'm here," replied Alivia, returning to her station. "And whatever ideas you have, I'm game."

"Okay. Initializing now."

Alivia watched as the _Orion_ sent a feedback pulse through the tractor beam. "It's working. But we tried feedback pulses before."

"This one is more subtle. The Borg are ignoring it as irrelevant. Can you get shields back online?"

"Working on it."

* * *

"Shields are back online, 20%," said Henry with a sense of relief. He was finally catching his breath after the brutal battle with the Borg which was as much hand-to-hand as phaser fighting.

"20%? Is that all?" asked Lindsey.

"Better than nothing," replied Henry.

"We will take whatever we can get," said Janeway. "It should block the Borg transporters for now."

"It will not take the Borg long to realize what I've done," said Hansen. "We may only have a few minutes."

"How many drones are still on the ship?" asked Janeway.

Henry looked at the internal sensor display and felt his hope fail. "Over a hundred. One hundred and twenty-nine, give or take a dozen."

"We might be able to clear them," said Lindsey with little hope.

The _Orion_ jolted. Henry looked out at the viewport to see the cube firing its green projectiles at them. "They're firing again."

"If they can't drain our shields by the tractor beam, they will beat them out with their weapons," said Lindsey. "Admiral, we are running out of time."

"Return fire," said Janeway.

"Energy has been transferred out of phasers for shielding," said Thrim. "Firing torpedoes."

Henry saw a look of sad recognition come across Lindsey's face, and he knew what conclusion she had drawn. Henry watched as Lindsey stood before Adm. Janeway. "Admiral, the _Orion_ cannot win this battle. We must cut our loses and regroup."

"What do you mean?" asked Janeway.

"We need to evacuate," said Lindsey, and Henry could see the pain on her face. No captain ever wanted to abandon ship.

"I agree, Admiral," said Capt. Shelby. "We have other ships, and we have the Romulan and Reman fleets. The _Orion_ may be lost, but we can still fight." As Shelby spoke, she gave Lindsey a sad but understanding nod. Captain to captain, Shelby understood Lindsey's position.

"To this also we agree," said Sub-Commander Matech. "We stand a better chance with our military in the battle"

Janeway gave a nod as she acknowledged the conclusion drawn on the bridge. She turned to the Romulans. "And if we are going to stay together, then we will need to return all of you to your people. Can we beam everyone over to the _Lakota_?"

"No, Admiral," spoke Ens. Hansen. "The Borg will detect and mimic the transporter frequency. If we use the transporters, Borg drones will follow us onto the _Lakota_."

"And we will have two ships inundated with drones," finished Shelby.

"Then we use shuttles and escape pods," said Janeway.

"Escape pods have limited propulsion and shields. Anyone within one of those pods would be exposed," said Thrim. "We would be practically handing them over to the Borg for assimilation."

"And we don't have enough shuttles to evacuate everyone," said Henry.

"I need solutions, people," said Janeway.

The _Orion_ shook from another impact. Lindsey had a thoughtful expression on her face. "Henry, what's our shield strength?"

"10% and falling."

"What if we extend shields only around the secondary hull; what would the shield strength be then?"

"Ahh?" Henry tried to do the quick math in his head. "30 maybe 40%."

"That would be enough," said Lindsey. "Admiral, I propose we evacuate everyone to the stardrive. There we will have propulsion, warp drive, some weapons, and enough shield strength to retreat. We can then abandon the saucer."

"We cannot maintain shields long enough on the whole ship for the evacuation," said Johnathan, his voice full of worry.

"Maybe we don't have to," said Lindsey. "We could drop the shields, allow drones on board, and still evacuate. We would also have to drop the force fields separating the sections. If we are to evacuate we need our people to move freely from section to section."

"Without our shields the cube could simply destroy the ship," said Ryan.

"Maybe, but I don't believe they will," replied Lindsey.

"Explain," said Janeway.

"Maybe it's just my imagination, but this whole battle I have had the feeling that the Borg want this ship. Maybe they want you, Admiral, or maybe Ens. Hansen."

"It is possible," said Shelby. "A Borg cube once hunted the _Enterprise_ for the sole purpose of assimilating Capt. Picard."

"How could the Borg know that the Federation would send the two of you?" asked Romulan Sub-Cdmr. Matech.

"Maybe it's not an individual person," said Lindsey. "Maybe they think this is _Voyager_."

"The Borg are more than capable of distinguishing one ship from another," said Hansen, but Henry watched the facial exchange between Lindsey and Janeway. Lindsey tipped her head forward and raised her eyebrows in an expression of insistence. Janeway's eyes open wide with recognition.

Then Henry understood himself. Lindsey was not referring to the actual _Intrepid_ class starship named _Voyager_ , but to the anti-Borg technology and weaponry on board it. From the Borg's perspective, the _Orion_ could very well be equipped with the same tech. If the Borg could capture and assimilate such technology they could adapted to it, destroying Starfleet's greatest advantage.

Henry heard the Romulans stir behind him as they also began drawing conclusions despite Lindsey's attempt at subtlety. What would happen if the Romulans suspected that the Federation was holding back on them. Henry dismissed the thought. It was not the Romulans but the Borg with whom he should be concerned at the moment.

"We'll compromise," said Janeway. "Lower the section shields and begin evacuation immediately. After three minutes, transfer all shields to the secondary hull. Capt. Shelby, I want you and a small team to head for the battle bridge. I and others with go by an alternative route. Whoever gets there first, shift all control to that bridge. Another team will man this bridge until we've taken control."

"Commander Hickensen will go with you, Admiral," said Lindsey.

Henry shook his head, "With all due respect, I request permission to remain on the bridge for as long as necessary."

Janeway was about to answer, but Lindsey beat her to it, "Denied, Commander. I need you to get the Admiral to the battle bridge." Henry was about to speak again, but Lindsey cut him off, "This is not a negotiation, Commander. It's an order. Cmdr. Thrim will stay with me on this bridge."

"Then it's settled," said Janeway. "Assemble your teams and evacuate the saucer. Computer, activate protocol 'Janeway 001'."

"Affirmative, protocol 'Janeway 001' enacted. Access to the main computer has been locked until such time as Adm. Janeway or Adm. Paris unlock it."

Johnathan stood up and approached the Admiral boldly. "Requesting permission to assist in the evacuation of sick bay."

"Denied, Lieutenant. We need you on the battle bridge," said Janeway.

Henry saw Lindsey reach out and grab Janeway's shoulder. "His wife is in sick bay right now, laboring to give birth to his child. I'm begging you, Admiral. Let him do this."

Janeway didn't look happy, but she nodded. "Once the staff and patients of sick bay are secured, I expect you on the battle bridge, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, Admiral," And Johnathan ran off the bridge faster than Henry had ever seen before.

* * *

"Repeat, all crew evacuate the upper decks and take shelter on the star drive," said the Admiral's voice over the intercom.

Frank spoke to all his officers over his combadge. "You all heard that. Set up security at the airlocks between the saucer and the star drive. Not a single Borg is to get through those doors. Everyone else, assist in the evacuation. Getting everyone off the saucer is top priority."

Frank and the young ensign with him ran to the off duty lounge called the Orion's Club and began herding the people out of there.

* * *

Ta'Sem ran alongside Sub-Cmdr. Matech, as they made their way to the lower decks of the _Orion_. She had her disruptor in her hand lest they encounter any Borg.

Rudal, the cowardly representative of Senator Durjik, was in the front of the group, along with his body guards. Capt. Shelby and the _Orion's_ helmsman, Ryan, were next, followed by many other bridge officers. Then last was Matech and Ta'Sem, herself.

Matech spoke to her in between strides. "Sub-Lieutenant, as much as I hate to admit this, it is imperative that Rudal survives."

"Understood, Sub-Commander. If he dies, Durjik will claim this to be a Federation conspiracy." Ta'Sem moved forward in the group.

Just as she was about to overtake Shelby and the helmsman, the whole group stopped. Three Borg drones appeared in front of them. One of Rudal's bodyguard ran right into a drone. The drone stabbed him with two strange tubules out of his left hand. The bodyguard dropped to the ground.

Ta'Sem reached out and grabbed Rudal. "Get out of here, you idiot! You are not allowed to die today." Rudal looked angry, but he didn't disagree. He turned around and left with his other bodyguard.

Meanwhile Shelby had shot one of the drones, but the other two had adapted to her phaser. Ta'Sem grabbed her too, "Go, I take care of them."

Unlike Rudal, Shelby seemed reluctant to go. Say what you want about Starfleet, thought Ta'Sem, they are brave. Ta'Sem raised her disruptor and shot another drone. The last one walked towards her. She fired her disruptor again, but the drone shielded itself against it. Ta'Sem allowed the drone to come near. As soon she was in arms reach of the drone, she drew a concealed assassin's dagger and buried it in the drone's neck. The drone dropped to the deck plating.

Ta'Sem was about to leave when she heard Rudal's bodyguard crying out, "Help me! Help me!" Ta'Sem stood over him as he squirmed on the floor. "I hear their voices. I hear their voices." Ta'Sem stepped back as Borg implants popped out of his skin and appeared on his face. "Make them stop!"

Ta'Sem raised her disruptor and shot the assimilated Romulan.

* * *

Henry opened the door to the battle bridge and allowed Janeway to enter. He then immediately jumped into the helmsman seat. Henry had only taken the helm on a full-size starship a few times. But he was a pilot before he became a command officer. Nonetheless he hoped that Ryan would arrive soon.

"Computer, transfer bridge controls to the battle bridge," said Janeway. The computer beeped its acknowledgement, and Janeway spoke through the comm system. "Commander, the battle bridge is online. Get here as soon as you can."

"Copy that, Admiral. On our way," replied Lindsey's voice, and Henry breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, he would not be complete happy until Lindsey was in this very room.

Capt. Shelby's team arrived. "Sorry we're late. We ran into some drones."

"Causalities?" asked Janeway. As Henry yielded the helm to Ryan he counted Shelby's group.

Sub-Commander Matech answered. "Two Romulans are missing: one of Rudal's men and Sub-Lieutenant Ta'Sem." Henry didn't think that Matech seemed too sad to be missing his assistant. Maybe it was just battle stoicism.

"I am sorry," said Janeway. "I hope they make it."

"I'm sure you do, human," said Rudal bitterly.

Janeway seemed distracted. "Where's Seven? Wasn't she with you, Capt. Shelby?"

Capt. Shelby looked nervous. "Admiral, I ordered her to follow, but she claimed a more important task. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen."

Janeway shook her head. "She rarely does. Status on saucer separation," asked Janeway.

"Automated controls are not responding. I think the Borg are messing with our systems. It's a good thing we locked them out of the main computer," answered Ryan. "However, the mechanics are operable and responding. We can proceed with manual separation at any time."

"Evacuation status?"

Henry checked his console. "75% of the crew are on board the stardrive. Those who were took shelter in the mess hall, the science lab, or sick bay are still coming in."

* * *

Selina Chaput-Mikkelson's screams of pain echoed throughout sick bay.

"You're doing alright, Selina. I need you to keep pushing. Okay?" encouraged Dr. Randle.

"What about the ship?"

"Selina!" said Dr. Thomas Randle in a commanding voice. "You have a child to worry about. Let others worry about the ship."

"Doctor," said one of the nurses. "We need to evacuate."

"And leave this woman in the middle of child birth? I think not."

"Can't we take her with us?" asked the nurse.

"It's too late. We can't stop this birth. If we try to move them, we could lose either the mother or the child, or just as likely both."

"We're evacuating the saucer. Everyone, retreat to the stardrive," came a voice from sickbay's door.

"Johnathan?!" shouted Selina just before she gave another scream of pain.

"I'm here, Selina," said Lt. Mikkelson as he ran up and grasped his wife's hand. "Doctor, we need to get her out of here now!"

"We can't. If she and the child are to survive, we must deliver now."

"Can't we speed this up somehow?"

"No, the medical transporters are offline. The Borg are doing something to the ship's systems. And if I perform a caesarean section, I am not sure I could stabilize Selina while we evacuate her."

"What do we do?"

Dr. Thomas Randle looked at Johnathan. "We are going to deliver this child." Dr. Randle raised his voice. "You all heard the bridge officer. Evacuate sick bay now!" All the other doctors and nurses left sickbay. "Johnathan, stay with you wife. Help her to breath, just as you learned in the class. Computer, activate the Emergency Medical Hologram."

"The computer is locked."

"Medical emergency override: Randle, Dr. Thomas, Chief Medical Officer."

A hologram of a bald human male appeared. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

"Child birth while the ship is being boarded by a hostile force," said Dr. Randle.

"Really?" said the hologram. "Do you appreciate how hard it is to practice medicine when you Starfleet types are always fighting?"

"Shut up and help me!" shouted Dr. Randle.

"Very well," said the EMH. "And people say I have a bad bed side manner."

* * *

Ta'Sem turned another corner and found more Borg drones. She had been completely cut off from her group, and everywhere she turned there were more drones. The ship was being completely overrun.

Ta'Sem fled in another direction and found more drones. "Species 5617, you will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

Ta'Sem swore and ran in the other direction, only to find more drones. She was surrounded. "Resistance is futile."

Ta'Sem found a Jefferies tube access hatch, opened it, and climbed in. The Borg followed her. Ta'Sem crawled on her hands and knees. Fortunately, the Borg were even slower crawling in the Jefferies tube than they were walking in the corridors.

Ta'Sem reached another access hatch, but before she could reach it, it opened. There in front of her was another drone. Panic set in, and Ta'Sem frantically crawled away from the drone. She found a vertical shaft and immediately climbed up. After climbing and crawling all throughout the Jefferies tubes, Ta'Sem was certain that she had lost them.

But she was also certain that she herself was lost.

* * *

Lt. Rikka Nolean fired again at the Borg drone. This time it fell. She had already used all the frequencies on her phaser rifle. Her hand-held phaser still seemed to work, but she was running out of options.

"Corridor C on deck 5 is not clear. Recommend using alternative routes," said Nolean into her combadge.

Nolean heard a sound behind her. She turned to see her partner, a young human male, lying on the floor with an open head wound. The three drones that had attacked him simply stepped over him and came for Nolean.

Nolean waved the drones towards her. "Come here, you insects. I'm the flyswatter." If Nolean could keep the Collective eye on her, maybe others could escape.

"Irrelevant," said all three drones. "You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

"Futile this." Nolean fired her phaser. One drone fell, but the other two blocked it with their shields. Nolean dropped her hand phaser and grabbed her rifle like a club. She slammed the rifle over the head of the drone on her right causing him to fall from impact. She felt a stabbing pain in her neck as the drone on her left reached out with its arm. Nolean caught that drone in the head with a horizontal swing of the phaser rifle. The implants on the drone's head crumbled. Nolean then smashed the first drone before it could return to his feet.

Nolean steadied herself against the wall, as she felt a bit dizzy. She moved her hand over the spot on her neck that was causing her pain. She felt two small wounds that were not bleeding. With sudden horror, she looked down at the arm of the drone that had hurt her. There at the end of the left arm was two small tubules wiggling like worms.

"No, no," said Nolean. She began to hear voices in her head. "No!" She felt with her hands strange implants forming on her face. "No! Please no!" There was an oppression on her mind. She tried to resist, but there was nothing she could do.

"Make it stop. No!"

The voices only grew louder.

* * *

T'Sel's orderly and logical evacuation turned into pure chaos in just one second. One moment she was leading a nervous but calm group of scientists and crewmen to the stardrive. The next there were Borg drones among them, and people were running everywhere.

"Everyone please stay calm," said T'Sel, but her voice was lost in the screaming. A Borg drone was approaching one of T'Sel's scientists. T'Sel fired her phaser to no effect, but a security officer took down the drone.

"Get as many people as you can and get them out of here!" shouted the officer. T'Sel obliged. It was logical to leave the fighting to security officers. But after T'Sel had gathered the people again, she noted that there were fewer of them. As they began down the corridor, T'Sel thought about her dilemma. She had accepted the responsibility for both her science team and the crewmen who had taken shelter in her lab. But was she responsible for each individual person? Was she required to go back even for one crewman?

T'Sel stopped and turned around. She had made her decision. She would search the nearby area. She would find who she could, and then she would leave.

* * *

"Move! Let's move people! To the stardrive! Everyone, go!" Frank felt his throat becoming sore, but he ignored it. The evacuation of the mess hall was chaotic. "Everyone down Corridor D." Frank had heard Nolean's warning, and he was trying to get the people around the Borg.

"Commander!" Frank ran to the front of the group to his partner.

"What is it, Ensign?" Frank's partner pointed. There was a group of about a dozen Borg drones who apparently hadn't noticed the evacuees yet.

"Take them down Corridor E, Ensign. I will make sure these drones don't follow."

"You can't take them alone, Commander."

"I don't have a choice. You need to go with the group. Besides," said Frank. "There's always a chance they will not notice. Now, go!"

The Ensign lead the people in the opposite direction. Frank, partially hidden behind a corner, watched the group of drones. Frank was just wondering if 'swarm' was the proper term for a group of Borg drones, when one of the drones looked right at him. Then, in a very creepy way, all the drones turned to face him.

"So much for not being noticed." Frank grabbed his phaser rifle and fired. He got only one drone with the rifle. Two fell to his hand phaser. But the rest kept coming. Frank reached for the weapon clipped to the back of his belt and pulled out the Klingon mek'leth. Smaller than a bat'leth and easier for a human to wield, it was left over from an undercover mission Frank had once participated in. Frank held the Klingon blade in front of him and smiled as the drones approached. "Perhaps today is a good day to die."

* * *

Rikka Samae stopped to catch her breath. As she did, her thoughts caught up to her. She had been with all the other scientists when the drones had appeared. Everyone ran in different directions. It was like the fear was contagious, which was a ridiculous thing for a scientist to think. But in that moment Samae had panicked, and she ran without thought. Only now did she realize how bad of a mistake she had made. She was all alone on a ship infested with the Borg!

Samae tried to calm herself down and think. She was on deck 5. Too high. She had to get to the lower decks. She could try the turbo lift, but that was likely to have drones all around it. She was better off using the Jefferies tubes. The Borg probably could navigate those crawl spaces, but not easily. The Jefferies tubes it was.

Samae looked at a ship schematic and found her exact location. If she was right there was an access hatch just down the hallway. Samae jogged around the corner and saw a Starfleet security officer just standing in the middle of the hallway with dead drones on the ground. She immediately recognized the officer.

"Nolean!" Samae ran up to her sister. "Am I glad to see you. Come on, we need to get out of here."

But Nolean slowly turned. On her face were various Borg implants. Her left arm was covered in basic Borg machinery. She faced Samae with a blank stare. "We are Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

"Nolean! It's me, Samae, your sister." Nolean merely walked towards Samae. "Please, Nolean. That's not you. You are not Borg."

"We are Borg. You will be assimilated."

Tears blurred Samae's vision. "Nolean!" No smile and no look of recognition came to her sister's face. Just a blank expression. Samae started to back away. Then she ran. She covered her face, but all that Samae could see was the image of her sister, the Borg drone.

* * *

Lindsey got to the end of the corridor, and reached the airlock. "Everyone on the stardrive." The bridge crew that had remained with Lindsey crossed into safety. Thrim was last. "Ser'rek, wait." Thrim stopped, and Lindsey spoke to the computer. "Computer, how many crew members are still on board the saucer?"

"There are still one hundred and forty-three crew members still on the saucer."

"Ser'rek, get to the bridge. I'm going to stay right here for as long as I can."

"Captain, I must protest."

"Your protest is noted, Commander. But you also know it's pointless."

"I know," said Thrim. "Be safe, Captain." The Andorian took the rest of the crew to the battle bridge, while Lindsey gripped her phaser and stood guard at the airlock.

A couple dozen people in civilian clothing and blue science uniforms came down the corridor. "Come on!" shouted Lindsey. "This way to safety."

* * *

Selina screamed again. "You're doing good, Selina," said Dr. Randle. "I can see the child. One more push, Selina."

"One more push, sweetheart, one more," said Johnathan.

Randle watched as Selina took a deep breath and gave one more mighty push. She screamed as she did so. Then there was suddenly a new sound. A baby's cry.

Dr. Randle cradled the tiny human in his arms. "Congratulations, Mom and Dad," said Randle. "It's a boy."

The look of relief mixed with joy on new parents was a sight that Dr. Randle never tired of seeing. Both Selina and Johnathan were speechless as they watch the EMH examining the baby boy with a medical triquarter. "Heart beat is stable, brain activity normal," said the EMH stoically. "This child appears to be healthy. Allow me to do a few more scans…"

Dr. Randle's eyes left parents and fell on something else that destroyed the moment of joy. "Computer, deactivate the EMH." The holographic doctor disappeared in midsentence, allowing the medical triquarter to fall to the ground.

"What?" asked Johnathan, but Dr. Randle put his finger to his lips. Johnathan looked over his shoulder and saw what Randle saw. Six Borg drones had entered sickbay. All three adults fell silent, but the baby keep crying and he lay on the tiny examining table.

"What do we do?" asked Johnathan, as he pulled his phaser.

"No, not that," said Dr. Randle as he thought quickly. If the Borg decided on making either the parents or the child a target to be assimilated, there would be no way for the family to avoid them. But if the Collective could be distracted. "Give me that thing." Randle grabbed Johnathan's phaser and stuffed it into his belt.

Then Dr. Randle picked up the crying baby and handed him to his mother. "Selina, hold on to him and don't let go." Then Dr. Randle put his arms under Selina and picked her up off the biobed. "Johnathan, you hold her and get her out of here." Randle lifted Selina into the arms of her husband. "Go to the stardrive, and find one of the doctors there. They will have set up a triage center somewhere."

"What about you?" asked Johnathan.

"I'm going to distract them. If I can make it back, I will." But the look on Johnathan's face told Randle that he knew the truth. Johnathan gave Randle a silent 'thank you.'

Selina on the other hand began arguing. "No, Doctor. You're coming with us."

"Johnathan, go."

"Doctor, no. Johnathan, what are you doing? Johnathan, we can't leave him," but Johnathan was already walking to the back door of sick bay.

Whether it was the baby's crying or Selina's begging, Randle didn't know, but the Borg seemed to have noticed the noise. Before they could see the new parents and their baby, Dr. Randle jumped forward. "Hey!" he shouted. "My name is Dr. Thomas Randle, Chief Medical Officer of the USS _Orion_. Get out of my sick bay!" Then he shot one of the drones with the phaser. The phaser burned a hole through the chest of the drone. "So much for doing no harm," said Randle to himself, recalling the hypocritic oath he had taken as a doctor. He fired another shot, but this one was blocked by the Borg shielding.

"We are Borg. You possess relevant knowledge of this ship. You will be assimilated." Randle fired again, and again no effect. He jumped back into the quarantine bay. He looked out the back door, and neither Selina nor Johnathan nor their baby were anywhere to be seen.

The Borg followed Randle. Randle activated the console and raised the quarantine field. Five Borg drones approached the security field. Each of them tested the field by walking into it. It only took them about ten seconds before they were able to walk right through the field. But that was all the time Randle needed to make adjustments to the biobed and his phaser.

"You will be assimilated."

"I know, I know." Randle dropped the phaser next to the head of the biobed and lifted his hands in surrender. "Resistance is futile, right?"

The Borg approached, but then paused as the phaser began to whine. Dr. Randle smiled as the phaser overloaded right next to the biobed's now leaking oxygen line. The whole quarantine area went up in a bright ball of fire.

* * *

T'Sel had found a few more people and directed then to the stardrive. She had even found nearly the entire crew of sick bay running for safety. Now she decided that she had done her duty, and it was time to retreat herself.

Just then she heard what sounded like an explosion. Curiosity drew her towards the sound, but logic told her that nothing good could likely come from such a sound. As she was about to turn away, she heard another sound: an infant crying.

T'Sel turned and saw the Lt. Johnathan Mikkelson carrying his wife, who in turn was holding her child. He was attempting to move with speed while holding his wife and child steady but was succeeding in neither one. "Lieutenant, you are acting illogically. You cannot carry your wife to safety. She is slowing you down."

"I am not leaving her behind!" shouted Lt. Mikkelson in anger. T'Sel recognized that she had just accidently stumbled into one of the most dangerous human emotions: the protective instincts of a husband and father.

"That is not what I am suggesting, Lieutenant."

"What are you suggesting? If nothing, then get out of my way!"

"Lieutenant!" T'Sel stopped him. "I am a Vulcan. Biology I am stronger and have more endurance than you. I know you have an emotional need to rescue your wife, but logically I am the one who should carry her and your child."

Lt. Mikkelson looked T'Sel in the eye, and just when she expected an emotional outburst, he nodded and said, "Take her. I don't care who does the rescuing. Just as long as she's safe."

T'Sel cradled Lt. Selina Chaput-Mikkelson in her arms. "Where is your phaser, Lieutenant?"

"Dr. Randle took it."

"Take mine. It's clipped to my belt. Cover me as I carry your wife and child."

"Yes, Lieutenant," said Lt. Mikkelson as he took the phaser.

T'Sel moved quickly towards the stardrive with Lt. Mikkelson behind her. As she rounded the last corner, she saw Capt. Lander at the air lock. The Captain shouted, "Come on! We are running out of time!" T'Sel reached the airlock, and the Captain looked at Chaput-Mikkelson and the child. "Selina, thank God! The child? Is she alright?"

"He is fine; he is fine," said Chaput-Mikkelson.

"Captain. I am going to get these two to the triage center," said T'Sel. "There they can get medical treatment."

"Good, check in with Dr. Randle."

"Dr. Randle, didn't make it," said Lt. Mikkelson. "He stayed behind in sick bay to give us a chance to escape."

T'Sel saw the emotional look on the Captain's face. Dr. Randle must have been a dear friend. But all the Captain said was, "Get them to the triage center."

"What about you?" asked Lt. Chaput-Mikkelson."

"I am going to stay here until we seal the airlocks. I want to get as many people to safety as possible. Now, go!" T'Sel carried Lt. Chaput-Mikkelson and her child down the hall.

* * *

"How many people are left on the saucer?" asked Janeway.

"Eighty-one crew members still on the saucer," said Henry. The _Orion_ shook again. "Stardrive shields down to 15%. We can't take much more of this."

"Can we tell how many of those crew members are still alive?"

Henry looked at Janeway for a moment as he feared her intent behind the question. "No, Admiral. That would take a thorough internal sensor sweep. Normally that wouldn't be difficult, but the Borg are already assimilating parts of the ship's systems."

Janeway took a long pause, then with a determined voice said, "Seal the airlocks and prepare for saucer separation."

"Admiral, I must say that we still have people on the saucer," said Henry.

"I know, Commander. But you said it yourself. We are running out of time. Do it."

Henry gave the order and closed his eyes, hoping that the rest of the crew was entering those doors at that moment.

* * *

"Stop! Stop, I said!" shouted Selina.

T'Sel stopped, "Is there something wrong with you or your baby, Lieutenant?"

Selina didn't answer the question, but instead looked at Johnathan. "You need to go back and get the Captain."

"What? Why?"

"I also do not see your logic," said T'Sel.

"She's not going to board the stardrive," said Selina frantically.

"Why would she not?" asked T'Sel. "She is evacuating just like the rest of us."

"No, she isn't." Selina looked at the Vulcan woman. "If there is even one crewman still on board the saucer, she will stay behind to help him."

Johnathan began, "Selina, you don't really think…"

Selina cut her husband off. "Of course, I do. She's done it before. On the old _Orion_ she remained on the bridge in a suicide collision course to give us more time to evacuate. She's going to do it again. You know I'm right, Johnathan. You need to go back and get her. Grab her and drag her onto the ship, if you have to."

"Lt. Mikkelson, do you also believe this is true?" asked T'Sel.

"Yes, I do," replied Johnathan. "I'm going to get her."

"No, Lieutenant," said T'Sel. "Stay with your wife and child. I'll go." Selina felt Johnathan's arms under her as T'Sel handed her off. Then the Vulcan woman took off at a sprint.

* * *

Lindsey heard the order to seal the airlocks, and then heard the confirmations of different crewmen sealing the airlocks. Lindsey stood, one foot on the saucer, then other on the stardrive. "Computer, how many crewmen are still on the saucer?"

"Seventy-six crewmen are still on the saucer."

"Seventy-six!" Lindsey mind spun. Seventy-six of her people left behind and abandoned to the Borg. Not if she could help it.

"Airlock 6, why haven't you sealed?"

Lindsey tapped her combadge. "Sealing airlock 6 now." Lindsey took one step and closed the door behind her.

T'Sel rounded the corner at a run. As she did so she saw the Captain, but the airlock door was closing. "Captain!" T'Sel ran at a full Vulcan sprint, but reached the door too late. Her captain was on the wrong side!

* * *

"All airlocks are sealed," said Henry.

"Begin manual saucer separation," ordered Janeway.

Henry gave the orders. "Lt. Ryan, detach the secondary hull."

"Separating the hulls, Commander." There was a shaking felt across the ship as Ryan followed orders and the _Orion's_ two hulls came apart.

"Release docking clamps."

"Releasing clamps."

Henry watch as the clamps holding the ship together released. Then he saw the _Orion's_ saucer floating free and detached from the rest of the ship. Henry only allowed himself a second to think of his crewmates still on board the saucer before giving his orders. "Reverse course, full impulse." Ryan obeyed. "Bring us about. Use the saucer as a shield and set a course away from the cube."

"This Adm. Janeway to the fleet. All ships fall back. Come to a rendezvous with the _Orion_."

"All ships responding, Admiral," said Capt. Shelby.

"Get us out of here, Commander," ordered Janeway.

"Warp 8, engage," said Henry. He felt his gut drop as what remained of the _Orion_ jumped to warp. But it wasn't space sickness he felt. It was the friends he was leaving behind.

* * *

Janeway breathed a sigh of relief, as they escaped the Borg. It was a close call, but they had survived. Soon she would gather the rest of the fleet, along with help from the Romulans and the Remans. Then they would destroy that Borg cube.

"Any signs of pursuit, Commander?"

"No, Admiral," said Lt. Cmdr. Hickensen in a snapped answer. Janeway was about to call on him for his unprofessional tone of voice when she noticed him gripping the armrest of his chair in barely contained emotion. Janeway looked around the bridge and saw the faces of the crew. The helmsman hovered his hands over his controls like he was thinking of turning the ship around. The Andorian commander was gripping the tactical console, his antennae standing straight up. Even Capt. Shelby had a sad look on her face.

The bridge door opened and the Vulcan science officer, T'Sel if Janeway remembered correctly, entered the bridge. "Adm. Janeway!" she reported with an urgency usual for a Vulcan. "Capt. Lander is not on the stardrive."

"What?!" said Hickensen, standing suddenly from his chair.

"She remained on the saucer," reported the Vulcan woman.

"She wasn't able to make it to the stardrive?" asked Janeway.

"No, Admiral. I passed her as I evacuated. But she remained behind. Informed by other crew members that the Captain may choose to remain with her crew on the saucer, I went back to get her. But I was too late, Admiral. She was on the other side of the airlock when it was sealed."

Hickensen swore loudly, and this time Janeway gave no thought to restraining him. The weight that was upon everyone on the bridge landed on Janeway in that very moment. She sank into her chair and was speechless.

An Orion woman came forward. Janeway recognized her as the Chief Engineer. "The Captain's on the saucer?"

"Yes, Lt. Cmdr. O'Hara-Grant," said Lt. T'Sel matter-of-factly.

"What about Frank?" asked O'Hara-Grant. "What about Lt. Cmdr. Grant?"

"Alivia," said Hickensen, but he seemed to run out of words.

O'Hara-Grant walked up and grabbed Hickensen by the uniform. "Where is my husband?!"

Janeway watched it all a state of near shock. "Computer, list all the crewmembers and guests who remained on the saucer or are otherwise unaccounted for."

"Belay that," said Lt. Cmdr. Thrim. "Computer, display the list on the tactical console." Janeway looked back at the Andorian, but he looked down to her. "Admiral, please, allow me." Janeway nodded. Thrim then proceeded to read the names.

"Those who are unaccounted for. From the Romulan contingents: Sub-Lieutenant Ta'Sem and Mr. Haramak. Starfleet personnel from highest rank: Cmdr. Lindsey Lander, Dr. Thomas Randle. Lt. Cmdr. Ulysses Francis Grant…" At that name O'Hara-Grant collapsed into Hickensen's arms in loud sobs. Hickensen held her tight as tears fell from his own eyes. Meanwhile Thrim continued to read names.

"…Lt. Rikka Nolean, Ens. Rikka Samae. Ens. Annika Hansen…"

"Seven!" Janeway suddenly sat forward. Seven hadn't made it off the saucer. What did she do? Why didn't she come? Where was she now?

"…and Civilian Richard Matthews. In total seventy-seven individuals."

Janeway took a deep breath. "Log their names in the computer and label officially as missing in action." Janeway felt an immense pain come upon her, the likes of which she had not felt since _Voyager_ was first thrown into the Delta Quadrant. "I abandoned them."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 _First officer's log; stardate 58084.5: The_ Orion's _saucer has been abandoned to the Borg. Two Romulans, seventy-four crewman, and one civilian were left on board. And one of those missing in action is the Captain. My job now is to assist Adm. Janeway in the command of the_ Orion, _now less than half its size._

 _We are currently in orbit around a Romulan colony world awaiting the arrival of the rest of our fleet as well as the military forces of the Romulans and the Remans._

Henry stood in the small engineers' lounge that had been converted into a conference room. From its location near the bottom of the ship, its window provided a great view of the planet over which they were orbiting.

"What is this planet?" asked a woman who walked up beside Henry. Henry turned and saw that it was Capt. Shelby.

"Captain Shelby, welcome. We know this planet only as RSE-35-Gamma. What the Romulans call it, I don't have the faintest idea. We've only seen it with our long range sensors and telescopes. It is a surprisingly hospitable and fertile planet. The Romulans clearly colonized it a while ago. I guess we're the first Federation citizens to learn such tidbits."

"Where no man has gone before," quoted Capt. Shelby.

"Not exactly what I had in mind."

"Nor I." Capt. Shelby looked away from the planet below and directly at Henry. "Commander, how are you holding up?"

"Fine."

"You don't look fine," pressed Shelby. "Don't worry, I am not reporting on you to the Admiral. There is no reason to lie to me."

"I am not fine," admitted Henry. "I'm beginning to wonder if I am cursed. This is the third time I have lost a captain. The second time I was fortunate to get Capt. Lander back, but the first time, Capt. Taylor wasn't so lucky. Can I get Lindsey back a second time?" Henry noticed his slip of the tongue in referring to Lindsey by her first name, but he hoped Shelby wouldn't notice.

"I lost Capt. Picard to the Borg," said Shelby. "But we got him back."

Henry was familiar with the incident to which the female captain was referring. "Captain, the _Orion_ is not the _Enterprise_."

"True, but don't down play yourselves. The _Orion_ is respected, and you have already led her into battle once before. The details of which are hidden from me, but from all I've heard, you did well, Commander. And mind you, I heard that from Capt. Picard himself. Which brings me to the point I wish to discuss."

"And that is?" Henry suspected that Capt. Shelby had another motive for speaking with him rather than simply cheering him up.

"When the _Resistant_ and the _Courageous_ arrive, I will presumably return to command my ship. Who will that leave to be captain of the _Orion_?"

"I presumed the Admiral would take that task upon herself," answered Henry.

"That is my assumption, too. But that would leave you as her first officer."

"I suppose that would."

"Which means the Admiral becomes your responsibility."

Henry gave Shelby a strange look. "What do you mean?"

"You know the duty of a first officer to his or her captain," said Shelby. "If Adm. Janeway becomes captain of the _Orion_ , then she is your captain, and you need to act accordingly. Especially at a time like this."

"A time like this?" asked Henry.

Shelby took a look around as if she was worried someone else was in the room. "The Admiral has been in her quarters ever since she left the bridge. Once, when I went in there for a status report, she had her lights down low and was staring out the window."

Henry had noticed the Admiral's solitude. "What am I supposed to do, drag her out kicking and screaming?"

"What would you do if it is was Lander in there?"

Henry knew that his approach to Lindsey, a woman he loved, would not work with anyone else. "With all due respect, Captain, Janeway is not just a captain, she is an admiral."

"Admirals are not supermen, Commander," said Shelby. "Yes, you may need to be a bit more diplomatic, but if she won't listen to you, then she needs to find a first officer to whom she will listen. You cannot do your job if you are too scared to approach the Admiral."

Henry thought about it for a bit. Lindsey had always said that it was his ability to tactfully challenge her orders and decisions that made him a good first officer. "I see your point, Captain. Thank you. It is probably time for me to stop sulking here as well."

"Two birds, one stone, Commander," said Shelby. "I can see why Lander keeps you around, and why Benteen tried to steal you away. Good luck, Commander."

"Thank you, Captain." Henry turned to walk down the hall towards the Admiral's quarters. The whole walk he tried to think of what he would say. But he was even more clueless when he stood before the Admiral's door.

Henry took a deep breath.

* * *

The door chimed. Adm. Janeway took her eyes off the Romulan colony planet before her. "Computer, lights." The lighting rose to normal levels. "Enter." The door slid open and reveal Lt. Cmdr. Henry Hickensen. "What can I do for you, Commander?"

The young man entered the room a bit hesitantly. "The Romulan and Reman fleets are about seven hours out. I am told that Cmdr. Donatra's flagship is in the vanguard."

"And our ships?"

"The _Resistant_ and the _Courageous_ are on schedule."

"Is that all?" asked Janeway.

"No, Admiral." The young man seemed to gather his courage and then in a professional voice said, "I also came to check on you."

"To check on me?" asked Janeway. "Why would I need someone to check on me?"

"You haven't left this room in nearly a day. I am not sure why you have locked yourself in here with the lights dimmed, but I want to make sure my commanding officer is okay."

Janeway looked at the young man. He knew that he was crossing a line, but now that he had done so, he stood strong. "How did you know my lights were dimmed?"

"You were still squinting when I walked in." Janeway laughed a bit. "Something funny, Admiral?"

"Just a memory, Commander. Back on _Voyager_ I once withdrew to my quarters for days. Chakotay came in and tried to convince me to come out." Janeway sat down on one of the sitting room's chairs. "What I would do to have him here now, either him or Tuvok."

"Chakotay?" asked Hickensen before a look of recognition came to his face. "Your first on _Voyager_."

"Yes, Chakotay was my first officer, and Tuvok was my second officer. They were my most trusted advisors, and they became dear friends. They were always there to support me, even if it meant disagreeing with me."

"Permission to speak freely, Admiral."

Janeway turned to Hickensen with interest. She extended her hand in a gesture of permission. "Granted."

"As flag officer of this ship, in the absence of Capt. Lander, you are the acting captain of the _Orion_. I am the highest ranking officer on this ship, second only to yourself. Unless you decide to name another person captain of this ship or put someone else in my place, then I am your acting first officer. I may not be either Chakotay or Tuvok, but I still have the duty support and advise you as my captain."

"And as first officer, you want to know what I am doing sulking in this room," said Janeway as she nodded her head. "Take a seat, Commander." Hickensen did so, and Janeway continued. "I have been sitting here running in my mind, over and over again, the decisions I made yesterday: to go into battle against the Borg, to try one more attack, to retreat from the saucer, and to leave it and seventy-seven people behind. Would I have ever done that on _Voyager_? I think not. I wanted to think of this ship, your _Orion_ , as my ship. But Capt. Benteen was right. This is not my ship." Janeway shook her head. "This past few hours, all I can think about is your Capt. Lander and Naomi Wildman."

"Naomi Wildman? I do not know this woman."

"Not a woman, a young girl; although she is growing up fast," said Janeway. "Naomi Wildman was born on _Voyager_ during our second year lost in the Delta Quadrant. She grew up on the ship. As she got older, she requested to become my 'Captain's assistant.' She followed me around when it was safe to do so, and I gave her little tasks that kept her busy and involved.

"She wanted to become a captain herself one day. I told her there were three things to remember about being a captain: 'Keep your shirt tucked in; go down with the ship; and never abandon a member of your crew.'" Janeway lowered her head. "My uniform may be in perfect order, but I failed the other two."

"You think you failed as a captain?" asked Hickensen cautiously.

"I left seventy-seven crewmen behind on that saucer. I cut my losses. If had truly cared about the _Orion_ as I did with _Voyager_ I would have never done that. But then there is your Capt. Lander. She knew what she needed to do. She stayed behind because she knew it was her duty as the captain. But I was unwilling to do the same. How am I ever going to look Naomi in the face again?"

Hickensen spoke slowly. "Permission to speak freely, Admiral."

"I already gave you that permission, Commander."

"And I am giving you a chance to retract that permission before I speak again."

"Permission was granted and remains granted, Commander." Janeway was now curious what the young man had to say.

"Frankly, Admiral, you were not the captain of the _Orion_. Officially, yes, you were the _Orion's_ flag officer. But as an admiral your responsibility was not to the _Orion_ but to the fleet. You no longer have the luxury of just one ship and one crew. Your rules for being a good captain no longer apply to you, Admiral." Lt. Cmdr. Hickensen put emphasis on his next words. "You cannot go down with the ship. To do so would be to abandon the _Hercules_ and the _Lakota_. The responsibility of the _Orion_ was on Lander's shoulders, and now it is on my shoulders."

"Your shoulders?"

"I am the acting first officer of this ship, and you are still in command of a fleet. The _Orion_ is my responsibility. Until, that is, you decide to name another captain or replace me."

Janeway remembered her previous conversation with Capt. Benteen. The other captain had warned her about taking command of the _Orion_ away from Lander. She didn't listen to Benteen then, but perhaps she should listen to Mr. Hickensen now. "What would you have me do, Commander? Transfer my flag to another ship and name you as acting captain of the _Orion_?"

"I am content with the current arrangement. Whether you transfer your flag or not is your decision. But the _Orion_ offers you a unique perspective as a fleet commander."

"And what is that?"

"We are now half a ship, Admiral. We will not be the vanguard of the fleet in the next engagement. From here you may be better able to see the big picture. And that picture will be bigger with a fleet of Romulan and Reman ships plus the _Resistant_ and the _Courageous_."

"What if I decide not to take the _Orion_ back into battle?" asked Janeway. "She is, as you said, half a ship."

"I said she might not be in the van, but I didn't say she wouldn't be combat ready." There was a hint of professional pride in the young man's voice.

"Explain," said Janeway.

"We still have our torpedo tubes and two good phaser arrays. We also have one of Starfleet's best warp cores, which is designed to power an entire _Galaxy_ class starship. As the _Orion_ is only half a ship, we will have a power surplus. I have instructed the engineers to improve the power capacity of the impulse engine, thrusters, and phaser arrays. We will be small, but we will be fast, agile, and will still pack a punch."

"Why would you be so eager to return to battle, Commander?"

"It's our duty, if called upon, Admiral," said Hickensen. "But also, if there is a chance of recovering our saucer and the people on board, then I want to be there to take it."

Janeway looked at Hickensen and could feel some of his resolve transferring to her. She also thought about Seven. She had rescued her friend from the Borg once before. Could Janeway do it again? "There is a voice in my head saying that is not possible, Commander. But I've never given that voice much credit. If there is even a chance to recover our people, I also want to be there to take it."

Janeway stood up. "Well, Commander, you have successfully pulled me out of my sulking mood. Tell me, how is the crew adjusting to life on the stardrive?"

"It has been hard. The saucer of a _Galaxy_ class starship was designed to accommodate the crew of the stardrive, in case of a warp core breach. But we are trying the opposite: fitting the crew of the saucer on to the stardrive. Most of the crew are bunked up three or four people to one living quarters."

"Whose quarters are these?" Janeway extended her hands to encompass the room in which she was residing. The VIP quarters where she had been staying was on the saucer.

"These belong to Lt. Cmdr. Alivia O'Hara-Grant, our chief engineer. They are the best quarters on the stardrive, and she immediately offered them to you."

"Well, you can have her move back in. I shouldn't be taking up the best quarters on the ship all by myself. Have her and another female officer stay here. The three of us will bunk together."

"Understood, Admiral, but…"

"But what, Commander?" said Janeway a bit harsh. Even though the young officer had impressed her, Janeway still didn't like her orders questioned.

Hickensen looked around. "These quarters were shared by O'Hara-Grant and her husband, Lt. Cmdr. Grant. He was one of those who remained on the saucer. I don't believe she will want to come back here. It will make her think about things she doesn't want to think about. She's not ready for that."

"Is that healthy?" Janeway remembered seeing the woman openly weeping on the bridge just the day before.

"Not in the long run, but for now…maybe," said Hickensen. "And frankly, Admiral, we need her focused and at her post."

"What if she is not up to the task."

"Then I would recommend Lt. Vladimir Kustov from the _Lakota_. He was acting chief engineer of the _Orion_ at its launch. He knows the ship and is respected by the crew. In fact, I have already talked to Capt. Benteen about the possibility, and she is willing to spare him, if we need him."

"I see that this is one of those matters you recommend that I allow you to handle." Hickensen nodded. "Very well. Keep me informed. And find two female officers who are willing to bunk with an admiral. Having someone else around might be good for me. Dismissed, Commander."

"Thank you, Admiral," Hickensen gave a slight head bow and turned to leave. Janeway made a mental note to pull up Lt. Cmdr. Henry Hickensen's file and study it. She wanted to see if he was as impressive on paper as in person.

"Mr. Hickensen," said Janeway. "One more question."

"Yes, Admiral." Hickensen stopped next to the door and faced her.

"Capt. Lander, do you believe she is still alive?"

"I hope so, Admiral," said Hickensen with immense sincerity.

"So do I, Commander."

* * *

Lindsey banged her head on the bulk head above her. She allowed herself to roll over and lay on her back while the initial pain subsided. In the past day she had crawled through more Jefferies tubes than she had in her entire Starfleet career.

It had been thirty-eight hours since the _Orion's_ stardrive had separated and taken the Admiral and most of the crew to safety. Since then Lindsey had been sneaking around the saucer looking for any of the crew that was still alive and unassimilated. She had yet to see a single one. Nor had she slept in two days.

Lindsey didn't dare let her guard down. She had been told that Borg drones usually ignore anyone who isn't considered by the Collective as a relevant threat or desirous for assimilation. But the drones on the _Orion_ were on the hunt. Whenever she had been spotted drones would converge upon her. Lindsey had been forced to retreat into the Jefferies tubes where the Borg found it more difficult to travel.

Lindsey felt the small lump on the back of her head. It was only slightly tender. She wiped the sweat off her forehead. The temperature in the Jefferies tubes and the corridors was nearly 40°C, and the humidity must have been close to 100%. Lindsey assumed that the Borg had accessed the environmental controls and changed the ship's atmosphere to their liking. Not only did Lindsey find it extremely uncomfortable, it also raised the danger of dehydration. Lindsey had already risked three trips out of the Jefferies tubes just for water. The growling in her stomach told her that she would eventually need to take in some food as well.

"It's a good thing the Borg haven't assimilated the Breen," said Lindsey to herself as she wiped more sweat off her brow. "Those snouts would be the end of me. They could probably smell me two decks away." Lindsey continued crawling through the tubes. She was slightly concerned that she had begun talking to herself less than two days into her isolation. But there was no one else to talk to.

Lindsey reached a hatch. On the other side Lindsey believed was a corridor, only two sections away from sick bay. She had decided to risk another walk in the corridors. She had come to find lost crew members. If she was going to do that, she needed to take a few risks. In particular she hoped to access internal sensors from sick bay. Then she would know where to find any remaining crew members, if any remained.

Lindsey slowly turned the latch. The air tight seal broke with a hiss that sounded unusually loud in the silent hallways. Lindsey poked her head out and looked both ways. She climbed out head first, dropped her arms down half a meter to the deck floor, and summersaulted to her feet. Closing the door as silently as she could, Lindsey walked down the corridor.

For a good while there were no Borg sightings, but Lindsey's luck ran out just outside sick bay. Two drones were standing guard. Lindsey held back a swear word. She resisted the urge to grab her phaser. She had hours ago exhausted her phaser setting, and being neither a security officer nor an engineer Lindsey was unable to modify her phaser further.

Lindsey peered around the corner again, and still the two drones were there. The same thing had happened to her at the astrometrics lab, preventing her entry. She knew that if even one drone saw her, the whole Collective would know. There was no way to take out these guards without alerting the rest. But Lindsey decided that she was not giving up this time. She had to get to those internal sensors.

Lindsey was studying the drones from a distance and evaluating her options when a strong hand grabbed her right shoulder. Her rudimentary combat training kicked in, and Lindsey spun to face her attacker while at the same time extending her left palm into the face of her assailant. Her palm made contact, and her attacker retreated two steps and covered her own face with her hands. It was a woman in a blue science uniform with Borg implants on her face and left arm. However, this drone did not belong to the Collective.

"Seven?" said Lindsey who remember just in time to quiet her voice.

"Commander," replied Janeway's Borg woman. She was holding her hands to her nose, and Lindsey could see blood on her face. "We need to get somewhere safe."

"This way, Ensign," said Lindsey as she led Seven of Nine back into the Jefferies tube. Once inside Lindsey crawled deep enough into the tube so that their voices would not carry out into the corridors. Lindsey then opened an emergency tool box and pulled out a light. "Let me see your nose, Ensign."

Seven of Nine moved her hands out of the way and allowed Lindsey to look. "I am not badly damaged, Commander."

"Your nose is broken, Ensign. You should not have surprised me like that."

"Believe me, I will not make that mistake again," Seven again tried to hold back the blood flowing out of her nose. "You were trying to get into sickbay?"

"Yes, Ensign," said Lindsey. "I was trying to access internal sensors. The computer consoles in there would be able to do that."

"You would need access to the main computer. Adm. Janeway locked the computer."

"This is my ship, Ensign. I have ways of accessing the computer, even if an admiral locks it down. Why were you heading to sick bay?"

"I may have a way to hide us from the searching eyes of the Collective. No doubt you have discovered that they are deliberately searching for survivors."

"I had noticed," said Lindsey. "I thought the Borg would ignore non-threating individuals."

"Normally they would, but I believe your conclusion on the bridge was correct, Commander. The Borg are after _Voyager's_ technology and anyone who might know about it."

"That includes you, Ensign," said Lindsey.

"Yes, I know about the technology that _Voyager_ used against the Borg on its return from the Delta Quadrant. But you are in no less danger, Commander. The Collective does not know who is knowledgeable and who is not. Apparently, they have simply decided to assimilate everyone on board."

"Seems that way. What is your plan to hide from the Collective?"

"It may be better to explain once we are in sick bay. _Voyager_ had a Jefferies tube access hatch in its sickbay. Does the _Orion_ have one as well?"

"I believe so, follow me, Ensign." Lindsey led Seven of Nine through the Jefferies tubes. They dropped down a deck, crossed under sick bay, then climbed back up. Eventually they arrived at a hatch. Lindsey paused before opening it. Seven gave her an encouraging expression, and Lindsey slowly opened the hatch.

There were no drones in sick bay. However, the door was open, and the two guards were still there. Lindsey and Seven silently crept through sick bay. Lindsey reached a computer console and entered her command. The door to sick bay slid closed. The drones apparently didn't care, as Lindsey counted twenty long seconds with no sounds from the other side of the door. "I think that worked."

"I agree," said Seven. "Now I must get working on my plan to hide us from the Borg."

"And I will check…" Lindsey stopped mid-sentence. Her knees became weak and her stomach turned within her. If she had eaten anything in the past thirty hours, Lindsey was sure that it would have come up.

"Commander, are you alright?" asked Seven.

"No, Ensign, I'm not." Lindsey was staring at the blacked remains of six humanoids around a biobed that seemed to have violently combusted.

Seven of Nine walked passed Lindsey with a triquarter. She scanned all six remains. "These five are Borg. This one is human."

"Who is it?" asked Lindsey, simultaneously needing but not wanting to know.

Seven did further scans then lowered her triquarter and looked at Lindsey. "This was Dr. Thomas Randle."

Lindsey's weak knees gave out from under her, and she fell to the floor. Seven of Nine came to help her, but Lindsey waved her off. Tears formed in Lindsey's eyes. "Not Randle. No not him."

"I am sorry, Commander," said Seven in a sympathetic voice. "Were you and he close?"

"He was the last…" Lindsey, choked with emotion, barely prevented full sobs. "He was the last living member of the old _Orion's_ senior staff." Lindsey gathered herself and allowed Seven to help her up. "With him an era has passed. The old _Orion_ is gone. But the fate of the _Orion-A_ depends on us, and there is work to do." Lindsey wiped her eyes. "I believe you have a project to complete, Ensign. And I have some internal sensors to check."

* * *

Samae woke up with a start and nearly banged her head on the ceiling of the Jefferies tube. It took her a while to figure out where she was, and even longer to remember why she was there.

Then it hit her all at once. The Borg invasion, the frantic evacuation of the science lab, and worse of all the sight of Nolean assimilated into the Borg Collective. Samae's eyes filled once again with tears. The pain was so raw. It was like nothing Samae had ever experienced. This must have been how her parents felt during the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor when family members would suddenly disappear without warning. Samae grabbed her legs, pulled her knees to her chest, and sat there like a scared little child.

Eventually Samae realized that she couldn't just stay and do nothing. Her stomach growled, and her mouth was parched. How long had she been asleep? In her grief and panic Samae had simply given herself over to her weariness. She had no idea how long it had been since the _Orion_ had been boarded.

Perhaps the whole experienced was over. Perhaps the Admiral had retaken control of the ship, and the _Orion_ was back to normal. Maybe they were looking for her. Perhaps they had found Nolean and rescued her!

Samae knew it was foolish thinking, but even the remotest possibility of a good ending got her moving. "Computer, what is the time and stardate?" Samae's combadge responded with a negative beep. "Computer, what is the time and stardate?" The beep repeated. "Computer, why will you not answer me?"

"The main computer has been locked down. Access is denied."

"Why?"

"Protocol Janeway 001 has been activated."

Samae's hopes crashed like a sensor probe into a singularity. The ship was still under Borg control. The crew was either evacuated or assimilated. Samae was alone, and with no idea what to do next.

As Samae was trying to plan her next move, she heard a noise. It was coming from above and behind her. She turned to face the noise. It sounded like someone was in the Jefferies tubes. Just down the crawlspace was a vertical passage. The sound seemed to come from there.

Then a pair of cybernetic legs landed six meters in front of Samae. She froze. The legs bent down, revealing a torso, arms, and a head. The humanoid cyborg looked directly at Samae, its red laser beam moving across Samae's face. "Starfleet personnel, your distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is futile."

Samae broke out of her frozen state and began crawling in the opposite direction. The Borg drone pursued her. Samae was completely lost in the Jefferies tubes, but she knew that her odds were better in here than out in the main corridors. She crawled around two corners and then found a shaft heading up.

Samae began to climb, but she encountered a sealed hatch. The opening switch did not respond. Samae looked down and saw the Borg drone at the bottom of the shaft. Desperately Samae grabbed the magnetic manual opening device, attached it to the door, and tried to wrestle open the hatch. Samae was never a strong girl, unlike her sister, and since becoming a scientist Samae had not made any particular efforts in strength training. She pulled on the door with all her might, and slowly it began to open.

Once the door was open Samae climbed up through it. Just as she had gotten through the hatch, she felt a strong tug on her leg. Looking down she saw that the drone had grabbed her leg above the ankle. Samae tried to shake the drone off, but the grip of the cybernetic arm was too much.

"Resistance is futile." The drone the then pull Samae's leg close its other arm, and nearer to the dangerous assimilation tubules.

Samae fell into to full panic. She started kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs. "Let go! Let go!" She gave a high pitched squeal, but nothing deterred the drone. The droned tried unsuccessfully to stab her with the its tubules, but Samae kicked with her free leg and kept the drone's arm away. The drone then grabbed both of Samae's legs. Samae wiggled her legs as hard as she could.

The drone must have lost its footing in the tube as it suddenly fell. But with its iron grip on Samae's legs, the drone pulled her down with it. Samae had just enough frame of mind to protect her head with her arms as she fell a full deck's height to the bottom of the shaft.

After she hit bottom Samae tried to crawl away, ignoring the pain in her legs. But the drone still held a tight grip. It pulled Samae towards itself, then pinned her under its heavy cybernetic body. Lying on her back, Samae tried to fight the drone with her hands, but drone grabbed her left arm. With her remaining arm Samae pushed against the drone's other hand, but the assimilating tubules came closer and closer to Samae's neck.

Two energy beams hit the drone right at the base of the neck. The drone's face briefly revealed pain, and its cybernetics shook for a bit before falling like dead weight on top of Samae. She struggled without success to get out from underneath the dead drone, until finally someone lifted it off her. Samae looked up at her rescuer, a yellow clad Starfleet officer holding a phaser in one hand and a Romulan disruptor in the other. "Cmdr. Grant?"

The _Orion's_ chief of security and Nolean's boss smiled. "Yes, it's me, Ensign. I'm am glad I found you. But we need to leave now. More drones will be here shortly. This way to deck 14."

"You want to go to the open corridors?" asked Samae as she crawled after the security officer.

"We don't have a choice. We need to get away from here quickly. Then we can find another hiding place." Grant continued to crawl until he came to a hatch. He used the magnetic manual device and opened it like it was nothing. He popped his head out into the corridor and then waved Samae forward. He helped her out, and Samae stretched her legs straight for the first time in a long time. But she had no time to enjoy it, as Lt. Cmdr. Grant began running down the hallway.

After running down five or six corridors Grant went through two double doors and into a large dimly lit room. Samae followed but was startled by a large figure looming over her. His great big shield on his left arm was the most eye-catching feature of the man. Raised above his head in his right hand was a large bronze club. It took Samae a second to identify the man as the statue of Orion, the man of Earth mythology and the namesake of the ship. Grant had led her into Orion's Club, the ship's off duty lounge, and the statue of Orion was the ship's unofficial mascot.

"Ensign," said Grant in a loud whisper. "Over here." Samae followed Grant as he hurdled the bar. Samae scramble over the bar herself and hid behind it with Grant. For many minutes the two of them hid behind the bar. Grant would periodically poke his head above the bar to search for drones. Finally, he let out a sigh of relief. "They don't seem to have followed us," he said.

Samae leaned her head against the bar counter. "I thought I was done for."

"You almost were," said Grant.

"How did you find me?"

Grant smiled. "I followed the screams. I was in the Jefferies tubes when I heard you. You were so loud I could hear you from two decks up. No report I've ever read said that the Borg scream, so I knew it was a crewman."

Grant peaked over the bar another time. Then he lowered himself to a crouch and tugged at his turtleneck collar. Samae noticed that he had taken off his gray-shouldered jacket, leaving only his yellow shirt. Samae felt hot herself, and it wasn't just because of her running. The air temptature and humidity on the _Orion_ had clearly been raised. Samae unzipped her jacket, but she couldn't actually bring herself to take it off when on duty.

Grant sat down and leaned back against a tall shelf. The bottles on it rattled. He looked up at the various drinks on the shelf. "Oh, how much I would love to crack open one of these. I wonder if they have any Kentucky bourbon on hand."

"You would drink at a time like this?"

"No, Ensign, I wouldn't, but that won't stop me from enjoying the thought of it. If we survive this, the next drink is on me."

"I don't drink, Commander" said Samae. "Not real alcohol. It clouds the mind."

"That it does," said Grant.

Samae felt uncomfortable having a causal conversation with an officer who greatly outranked her. As she sat there quietly she noticed Grants face drop a bit. Then his head nodded. He shook himself awake. It was then that she realized that the Commander, unlike her, probably hadn't slept since the boarding. She still didn't know how long she had been asleep.

When Grant's head dropped again, Samae knew that she needed to talk to him. "Commander?"

"Yes," replied Grant a bit eagerly. He wanted her to talk to him, but he had been respecting her silence.

"Umm?" Samae looked around. "I've never been in this room."

"What?!" asked Grant in disbelief. "Never?"

"Well, once…twice, technically. The first was on the orientation tour, and the second was just to remind myself where this place was."

"Why not come down? This is an off-duty lounge. A place to shed the stresses of Starfleet service and recharge the batteries."

"I guess I didn't like the type of fraternizing that took place here. We commissioned officers are professionals."

"Even professionals need a break, Ensign."

"Maybe. My sister…" Samae broke off at the thought of Nolean.

"Your sister spent a good amount of time here…" Grant stopped and looked at Samae. "Ensign, are you alright?"

Samae broke into tears again. All she could see was the image of her sister, the Borg drone. "She's gone, Nolean is gone." Samae's tears turned into loud sobs. She couldn't control herself.

"Ensign Rikka, what do you mean gone?"

Samae tried to speak between sobs. "The Borg…assimilated." Grant reached out and held her. Despite her training and her respect for higher ranks, Samae grabbed ahold of Grant and cried into his shoulder. She couldn't tell how long she had cried. Eventually she ran out of energy and tears. She let go of Grant and sat on the floor.

Grant let her sit there for a bit before he asked. "Are you sure? Did you see her?"

"I saw her, but it wasn't her," said Samae, eyes cast to the ground. "She threatened to assimilate me. It was the Collective speaking, not her. She's gone." Samae looked up at Grant and was surprised to see tears running down his face. "Commander?"

Grant wiped away his tears. "You forget, Rikka Nolean was my officer and my friend. She was my wife's maid of honor at our wedding. She was one of my closest friends on this ship."

"Then you are a better friend than I am a sister," said Samae.

"I don't think that's true," said Grant.

"It is true," said Samae sharply. "The real reason I didn't come down to the Orion's Club was because I was afraid she'd be here! I didn't want to be seen with her. I was afraid that my brash, uncouth sister would embarrass me in front of my new scientific colleagues. I thought myself better than her. But now, all I want is my sister. All I want to say is 'I'm sorry' and to tell her I love her."

Grant rose to a crouch, still not wanting to risk raising his head over the bar. "Nolean knew that you loved her. And she loved you."

"Did she really know? Or did she think that her sister was ashamed of her. Now she's gone, and I can never tell her that. All that's left is for me to die, and the sooner the better." Samae looked away from the Commander, trying to ignore his consoling words.

"Look at me, Ensign!" Samae was startled into looking back at Grant. "If your sister was here right now, she would be scolding you for saying such a thing. And she would be telling me to make sure that I get you out of this alive. If that is in my power, then I will do it." Heedless of the danger Grant rose to his feet. "I need you to help me. You are a member of this crew and a commissioned officer of Starfleet. We have a job to do, and you do not have the option of giving up. It is your duty to Starfleet and to your sister to live. Do I make myself clear, Ensign?"

"Yes, Commander." Samae wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up. "Do we have a plan?"

"No, but you're the scientist. Help me think of ways to slow these drones down." Grant checked his weapons: a Federation phaser, a Romulan disruptor, a small combat knife, and a Klingdon Mek'leth. Samae had no weapons, so she looked around for a club or heavy blunt object. She looked at the shelf of beverage bottles and spotted something interesting.

"Commander, I may have an idea."

* * *

Ta'Sem continued to follow the pair of Borg drones. She had discovered that the Borg were searching the ship in an efficient pattern of perfectly coordinated patrols, and her best tactic to avoid the patrols was to follow one. Having just checked an area, the Borg would not pay attention to it for a while. The trick was to follow closely enough not to lose them, but not so close as to be detected or to be surprised by a crossing patrol.

Ta'Sem had already found her way to the shuttle bay. Unfortunately, there were stationary guard drones posted at all the routes for getting into the bay itself. Ta'Sem had then tried a transporter room, hoping to perform a sight-to-sight transport into the shuttle bay or maybe directly into a shuttle. But the transporter system had been compromised by the Borg.

It appeared that the Borg did not want to let a single person off this ship, and Ta'Sem had a fairly good idea why. The Federation had weapons and technology dangerous to the Borg. This Ta'Sem knew from her earlier research. And based on Lander and Janeway's cryptic conversation on the bridge, they did not bring that technology here. But the Borg did not know that, and they were trying to assimilate anyone or anything that would lead them to that tech.

So Ta'Sem gave up on trying to escape the ship. Instead she decided to focus on survival, hoping that a Romulan or even a Federation attack force would come and rescue her. So, her next attempt was to get to the mess hall and get supplies for the long wait.

Ta'Sem licked her dry lips. She had not had anything to drink in over thirty hours. She cursed the thought that her distant Vulcan cousins could go days without drinking water. The hellish conditions on the Vulcan home world had made the Romulan sister-species hardier in this one aspect. Ta'Sem knew that the Romulan body could also go a long time without water, but she also knew that water was a most important necessity. Without it her physical performance would diminish, and worse her mental proficiency would suffer. And Ta'Sem needed all her wits to survive this. Even her Vulcan cousins would agree to that logic.

Ta'Sem was almost to the mess hall when the pair of drones she was following met another patrol. Ta'Sem quietly turned around, but found another patrol coming down an intersecting corridor. She quickly ran back the way she came, but as she did she passed a drone that looked female. The drone turned its head and looked right at her. "A member of species 5617 located. Prepare for assimilation." The drone turned and started walking towards Ta'Sem. Two more drones were coming from down the hallway.

Ta'Sem took off at a full sprint. She out ran the Borg drones, but the Collective now knew where she was. She had to escape notice and find a hiding spot. After running a long and convoluted pattern, Ta'Sem made for the mess hall.

Once inside, Ta'Sem found the mess hall empty. Unable to find a good hiding place Ta'Sem ran right into the kitchen. Just as she went through the swinging door, she heard the mess hall door open. Unable to find a better place, Ta'Sem hid behind an oven.

The kitchen doors opened to reveal two Borg drones. There was no way Ta'Sem could make it to an exit without being seen. She had to hope they would not find her.

One drone lifted its left arm, and green scanning beam projected out. With a robotic swing of the arm, the drone swept the room in green light. Ta'Sem closed her eyes as the beam went over her.

"Species 5617 has been located. Prepare to assimilate." Ta'Sem jumped out of her hiding and fired her disruptor. The green energy beam hit the lead drone but was harmlessly absorbed by the drone's shielding. The Borg loomed closer. Ta'Sem felt her back hit the walk. She fumbled for a weapon, but only came up with a large wooden spoon. "Resistance is futile."

Just as Ta'Sem was about the make her find stand, a pair of hands appeared around the scanning drone's head. They grabbed the drone by the chin and the back of the head, and in one violent motion, snapped the drone's neck. The drone nearest Ta'Sem turned to face the unexpected attacker only to take a long kitchen knife to the neck. Both drones dropped to the floor.

"The cook?!" Ta'Sem looked upon her rescuer expecting a security officer in Starfleet yellow, only to find a tall, broad shoulder human male wearing an apron.

"Yes, the cook," said the man. "Sub-Lt. Ta'Sem, we've met before, but you likely don't remember. My name is Richard Matthews."

"You know who I am?" Ta'Sem had made a point to memorize every name and face she saw, but she was trained for that kind of work. This man was just a cook.

"Yes, Sub-Lieutenant, I know who you are. Wasn't hard. There were not many Romulans on board this ship. Now if you don't mind, I think we should leave here before more drones arrive."

"Not until I supply myself."

"I have already packed for myself. There is some nonperishable, easy to carry food stuffs in that cupboard. I will get another canteen for water."

Ta'Sem grabbed some food and pull it in the backpack that Matthews had given her. She filled with water the canteen that Matthews gave her, then drank its entire contents. When she finished refilling it, she turned back and saw Matthews wiping the blood off his knife onto his apron before replacing it in a protective sleeve. Ta'Sem watched the human work and recalled the efficiency with which he had killed the two drones. This man clearly had some previous combat experience.

"Ready? Let's go." Matthews led Ta'Sem out of the kitchen's back door, and into the hallway.

Ta'Sem had not bothered to study the details of the civilian population of the _Orion_. She hadn't considered any of them to be relevant to her mission. But, clearly, she was wrong. As she followed behind Matthews, she took the opportunity to evaluate the human male. He most certainly had combat experience and most likely some formal training. Starfleet training? Possibly. Other possibilities were Maquis, planetary police, or some civilian combat during the Dominion War.

He kept his body in prefect physical fitness. He moved with a certain athletic grace, always ready to take action on a moment's notice. His physique was well maintained: strong broad shoulders; a tall, well balanced frame; thick muscular legs; and what Ta'Sem imagined was a firm core. By all accounts Richard Matthews was a healthy, fit, and even attractive man…for a human.

Ta'Sem shook the thought out of her mind and tried to direct her thoughts elsewhere. "Where are we going?" she asked in a whisper.

"The Orion's Club."

"The off duty lounge?"

"Yes, a superfluous part of the ship that serves no function other than the recreation and ease of the crew," said Matthews. "If there is a place on this ship the Borg will consider irrelevant, that is it."

"Strong, handsome, and clever," said Ta'Sem in a soft voice to herself.

"What was that?"

"Um, Oh, I was just agreeing with your good idea."

As Matthews led, Ta'Sem noticed that he had drawn the kitchen knife out of its sleeve again. It was his only weapon, but ironically it was probably more effective against the Borg than Ta'Sem's disruptor pistol. Ta'Sem wished that she had recovered her combat dagger, but it was too late for that. Ta'Sem noted the way Matthews handled the knife. He held it blade forward to extend his reach, but earlier Ta'Sem had seen him hold it inverted for a stronger downward stab.

"You know what you're doing, don't you?"

"Are you asking if I know the way to the Orion's Club?" asked Matthews.

"No. I am asking if you know combat," replied Ta'Sem.

"Yes, I do," said Matthews. "I was a Starfleet security officer before and during the Dominion War."

Ta'Sem nodded, as her suspicions were proven true. "And now you are a cook?"

"I enjoy cooking."

"But not security duty?" asked Ta'Sem.

"I take no pleasure in killing," replied Matthews as he peered around a corner. "After the Dominion War, I had done enough of it. I needed to step away. Create something good, rather that destroy something."

"Why did you become a security officer in the first place if you don't like killing?"

"I wanted to serve; to use my skills and talents for the betterment of the Federation. As a security officer I was tasked with protecting the people I cared about. I was willing to risk my life and even to take life, if it meant I was saving the lives of those who needed me. I joined Starfleet security not to take the lives of my enemies, but to protect the lives of my friends."

"I see," said Ta'Sem. But she thought back on her own reasons for serving. She had signed up to serve the needs of the Romulan Star Empire, but the individual lives of its citizens were not considered valuable. Her job was to promote the Empire even if it was at the expense of her friends. Her training taught her that no life, neither friend nor enemy, was as important as the Empire. However, Ta'Sem pretended to understand Matthews. "I can see why you don't enjoy killing other sentient beings needlessly. But your enemies, I don't imagine you feel any remorse for killing them."

Matthews stopped and looked at Ta'Sem with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. "No, you're wrong. I've killed Klingons, Jem'Hadar, and Romulans. None of whom I've enjoyed killing. Each person I've killed had their own life to live, and I ended it early."

"War is brutal. And only the brutal can survive it," said Ta'Sem. "It doesn't pay to second guess your decisions."

Matthews peered around another corner and waved Ta'Sem on. "I am not seconding guessing anything, and I don't regret killing anyone if it was necessary," said Matthews. "It was my duty; it was what I had to do to protect those who were in my care. And I would do it all over again, if I had to. But I will never enjoy it nor be proud of it."

"What about these mindless drones?" asked Ta'Sem. "Surely you don't feel remorse for them."

"The drones I've killed were people once. Individuals whose lives were ended early."

"But not anymore. They are just part of the hive."

Matthews stopped again. This time he took off his apron and held it in front of Ta'Sem. "Look at this and tell me what you see."

"Blood," said Ta'Sem as she looked at the place where he had wiped off his knife.

"Green blood," corrected Matthews. "There are only two species I know that have green blood: Vulcans and Romulans. We know that members of both species have fallen victim to the Borg. But the drone I killed looked like it was recently assimilated. Perhaps a member of the _Terabon's_ crew. Perhaps he was a lowly uhlan hoping to return to his young wife. Or maybe a centurion with the weight of command on his mind. Or maybe a sub-lieutenant who had dreams of a great career in the Romulan military." Ta'Sem was at a loss for words. Her only thought was how there was no man like Matthews on Romulus.

A sudden change came over the warrior chef. He raised his hand and peered around a corner and indicated two with his fingers and pointed the other way. Ta'Sem nodded and turned away from the danger that Matthews saw, but then she immediately stopped. "Matthews!"

Two drones stood in front of Ta'Sem. "Species 5617 and 5618, you will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

Matthews grabbed Ta'Sem's arm. "Run!" The two of them sprinted down the corridor, narrowly avoiding the first two drones that Matthews had spotted. Ta'Sem followed Matthews through the twists and turns of the _Orion's_ corridors. Her mental map was barely keeping up with the human cook, who was surprisingly quick on his feet.

More drones attempted to cut them off. Matthews dodged another direction. Ta'Sem began to see a strategy in the Borg drones. "Matthews, they are herding us. We are running into a trap."

"Then we stop running around them." Matthews handed Ta'Sem his knife. Two drones were again in front of them. Matthews, who Ta'Sem had thought was running at full speed, increased his speed, lowered his shoulder, and charged directly into one of them. To Ta'Sem's surprise the drone fell to the group. The second drone turned to attack Matthews, but Ta'Sem used the knife to incapacitate it.

"We've broken out of the net. Now what?" asked Ta'Sem.

"We hide, or we make our stand," said Matthews.

After leading Ta'Sem through a few more cooridors, Matthews ran through a pair of double doors into a large darkly lit room. Before Ta'Sem was a large statue of a man. "Orion's club?" asked Ta'Sem pointing to club in the statue's hand.

"Yes, it's a bad joke. Are they still following?"

Ta'Sem looked out the door. "Six drones coming." She ran to Matthews who was by the statue.

"Get behind Orion here, we will force them to split up around the statue."

Ta'Sem held the knife handle towards Matthews. "You want this back?"

"Keep it. You take the right, I'll take the left." Matthew took an athletic stance with arms out and hands open, really to grapple with any Borg drone that came his way. Ta'Sem held the knife in front of her and prepared for her final stand.

Six drones entered the room. They paused for a bit to take in the situation, and then they split into two groups of three. They circled the large statue on either side.

Ta'Sem was about to lunged forward when a phaser beam came from somewhere within the room and struck the statue at its shoulder. The right arm of the statue broke off, club and all, and fell on top of the three drones in front of Ta'Sem. Without hesitation Ta'Sem ignored them and turned to help Matthews.

Matthews had one hand on the left wrist of a drone, rendering the assimilation tubules useless, and the other hand on the drone's throat. He lifted the drone off the ground and threw it to the floor. A second drone approached him. Ta'Sem was too far away to engage the drone in a knife fight, so she extended her left arm straight in front of her, and with her right hand lifted the knife to her ear. Then, pulling her left arm in and using her entire body, she hurled the knife at the second drone. The knife landed in the drone's unprotected neck. The drone fell to the ground. The third drone was hit with two energy beams: one a Federation phaser, the other a Romulan disruptor. The drone's shields activated, but the beams burned a hole in its chest regardless.

Ta'Sem looked at the source of the beams and was surprise to see they came from a single, yellow-uniformed human male. A blue uniformed woman came around from behind the beverage bar with two bottles of liquor, both with a flaming wad of cloth at the mouth. She threw one and then the other at the entrance of the club. Flames burst out, blocking the entrance.

"Nice throw, Ensign," said the yellow uniform, who was finishing off the drones caught underneath the statue's arm with a Klingon blade. He looked up at Matthews and said, "Chef! Am I glad to see you! I mean…I wish you were safely on the stardrive, but…"

"I get it, Frank," said Matthews. "We should leave now. I don't believe your improvised Molotov cocktails will be that effective against Borg drones. Alcohol doesn't burn that hot."

"Alcohol no. But Benzite cider burns much hotter and for longer," said the blue uniformed woman, whom Ta'Sem had just recognized as one of the Bajoran sisters. She tossed two more bottles on the fire for good measure. "I don't know how they drink that stuff."

"Are you a bartender, Ensign?" asked Ta'Sem.

"A scientist," replied the Bajoran woman.

"And now, officially, a weapons designer," said Ta'Sem with a smile. The Bajoran woman shuttered at the thought, which confirmed Ta'Sem's opinion that the Ensign was not as militant as the Bajorans that had lived through the Cardassian Occupation. "I am Sub-Lt. Ta'Sem."

"Ens. Rikka Samae," replied the Bajoran woman.

"Lt. Cmdr. Grant, chief of security of the _Orion_ ," said yellow uniformed man. Ta'Sem pretended to take in the names for the first time, but she already knew who they were.

"Introductions came wait for later," said Matthews. "We need to go."

* * *

"How is your progress, Ensign?" asked Lander.

"Not good," replied Seven of Nine. "I am working purely from memory, but I was not able to retain all the necessary information. I need access to my files." Seven wiped her hand below her nose, only for the pain to remind her that it was still broken. "I was trying to get my private data, but the Borg have swarmed my quarters and the science lab."

"The Borg do not have access to your data, do they?" asked Lander with a worried voice.

"No," said Seven trying to reassure the Commander. "I was very clever in my hiding of my information. I know the Collective; I know where they will look and not look. There are other copies of my data in the _Orion's_ main computer."

"I'm working on it," said Lander.

"Perhaps I could help," said Seven as she stood behind Lander. "Between my service on _Voyager_ and my time in the Academy, I have accrued considerable knowledge of Starfleet computer programing."

"Thank you, Ensign, but that will not be necessary. I am not trying to hack my way into the computer."

"Then what are you doing?" asked Seven.

"I am trying to activate the captain's override."

Seven found herself confused. "Adm. Janeway included your override codes in her lock out of the computer. Just in case you were assimilated by the Borg."

"True," Lander, with a smile beginning to form on her face. "But I am not the only person to have captained this ship. I am trying to access my predecessor's codes."

"You had no predecessor," said Seven. "You are the first captain of the _Orion_."

"Of the _Orion-A_ , yes, but not the first captain to access this computer."

Now Seven understood. "This computer was part of the original _Orion's_ refit. It was reused for the _Orion-A_. Adm. Theresa Taylor was captain of that ship. You did not remove her command codes."

"I didn't see a reason to do so," said Lander. "Capt. Taylor is dead, and the memory of her command codes died with her. Plus, it was like a part of her was still with the ship."

"If knowledge of her codes died with her, how do you plan on accessing them?"

"I knew Capt. Taylor. She was my mentor. She taught me everything I know about commanding a starship. I hope that my familiarity with her will help me crack her codes." Lander tried another combination. "And…got it! We have access. Use this console. I will access another one."

Seven of Nine began her work right away. "I can access all the data I need from here, but I will need medical expertise. Do you have an EMH?"

"Yes, computer activate the Emergency Medical Hologram."

The hologram appeared. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

Seven looked back at Lander with surprise. "You have Mark 1 EMH? I thought they were obsolete."

"Obsolete?!" said the EMH "I will have you know that I am programed to perform over five million surgical procedures and my matrix contains the medical knowledge of over three thousand cultures." Seven knew that all Mark 1 EMH's had the same appearance, but she was still amazed at how this EMH seemed just like _Voyager's_ Doctor.

"Like I said," explained Lander. "This computer core belonged to the old _Orion_. The Mark 1 EMH was already installed, and Dr. Randle decided not to upgrade."

"I am sure that you would not have activated me just to talk about me," said the EMH. "Must I repeat myself? Please state the nature of the medical emergency. And please don't tell me that it is to fix this broken nose."

"No," said Lander. "We did not summon you to fix a broken nose. But now that you mention it, I imagine the Ensign here would appreciate it. Then she will explain why we need you."

"Very well. Hold still." The EMH put his holographic fingers on either side of Seven's nose and straighten it quickly and precisely. "A dermal regenerator, please."

"I am not a nurse, Doctor," replied Lander, not looking up from the console she was working on.

"Fine, I will get it myself." The hologram found the tool in a drawer and came back to Seven. "Why are there no nurses or medical staff in sick bay?"

"They have been evacuated," said Seven as the EMH ran the regenerator over her nose. She could feel the pain residing.

"Evacuated! Why?"

"The ship has been overrun by the Borg," explained Seven. "There are only a few of us left on board. The Commander is trying to locate whoever else is still on the ship. I am working on a way to hid us from the Borg. That is where I need your help."

"I have no expertise on the Borg," said the EMH.

"The help I need is medical in nature," said Seven. The EMH finished his work. "Thank you, Doctor."

"I got internal sensors working," said Lander. "Time to see who else was left behind." Seven stood over Lander's shoulder. "There! I see four non-Borg life signatures: Two men, both human; two women, one Romulan and one Bajoran. They are moving as a group."

"What is that signature?"

"It is a female…" Lander didn't speak for a second. "A Vulcan female."

"Lt. T'Sel," said Seven of Nine. "She is the only Vulcan female serving on board your ship."

"Yes, she is…" It seemed to Seven that there was something Lander was not telling her. "These four are our priority. It looks like the Borg are hunting for them. We need to get to them now."

"It would be wise to attempt my plan for protection first," said Seven.

"Explain it to me, Ensign," requested Lander.

"Of course, Commander. Doctor, please pay attention. Normally the Borg can be avoided by simply remaining irrelevant, by not posing a threat to them. But they seem to be hunting us, which makes that plan ineffective. My plan is to create a disguise so that when the Borg see us, they will think we are drones."

"No matter what fake Borg machinery we put on, the Borg will sense that we are not one of them," argued Lander.

"That is why I plan on putting the disguise on a cellular level. This will make our life signatures read as Borg."

"How are you going to pull that off?"

Seven pulled up an image on the screen of a blood stream. "By modifying some Borg nanoprobes to emit a Borg signature and inserting them into our blood stream. The nanoprobes will bond with our cells. The Borg will not be able to tell one of us from another drone."

"You want to put Borg nanoprobes into my blood?" asked Lander uncomfortably. "Will they not assimilate me, make me part of the Collective?"

"Not if I modify them correctly," answered Seven. "They will assimilate your blood cells and a few other cells, but they will not connect you to the Collective, neither will they change anything essential in your DNA or biology, nor will they create any cybernetic devices. I will also add a kill program that will shut them down after a month. Hopefully we are off this ship by that time."

"What do you need me for?" asked the EMH.

"Besides operating the intravenous apparatus, I need you to double check my work and give me an expert medical opinion. If I make a mistake, this will either not work, or as the Commander said, cause her to be assimilated into the Collective. I wish to take precautions against that possibility."

"I appreciate that," said Lander. "One question: where will you get the nanoprobes?"

"Right here." Seven took a petri dish with saline solution in it and extended her left hand towards it. Her assimilation tubules came out the back of her left hand, and she began to deposit nanoprobes into the dish. "My body still produces a fair amount of Borg nanoprobes."

"I did not know that," said Lander.

"I doubt that I will be useful to you," said the EMH. "I am just a hologram. And I don't have any experience with Borg nanoprobes."

Seven looked at the holographic doctor. "One of the most knowledgeable individuals on Borg medical technology is a hologram, a Mark 1 EMH like yourself. I also count him as a personal friend."

"You know _Voyager's_ Doctor?" asked the EMH with sudden great interest. "What is he like? Can you introduce me to him?"

"Perhaps, after this is over," said Seven.

"And that will only happen, Doctor, if we don't die or get assimilated," added Lander. "Let that be your incentive to help Seven get this right."

* * *

Frank led the group into someone's personal quarters. Once inside Frank raised the lights. "Whoa!"

"What?" said Rikka in a startled voice.

"The occupant of these quarters has an interesting taste in art." Frank pointed at the two large posters of physically fit men some of whom had their shirts off. "Late 20th century promotional art. I believe these men are part of a musical group called a 'boy band'."

"Oh," said Rikka.

"This is not your room, Ensign?" asked Frank.

"No! Absolutely not!" said Rikka. Frank took pleasure in the embarrassment on the woman's face.

"This room belongs to a Melinda Vibee," said Ta'Sem as she paged through a hand-written book.

"That does not surprise me at all," said Frank.

Chef took the book from Ta'Sem and closed it. "This is a diary. Lt. Vibee's personal notes are not relevant today." Ta'Sem gave an innocent shrug of her shoulders.

"Here's what is relevant," Frank set his phaser and a disruptor pistol on the coffee table. "We need these weapons to become effective again. It seems that the Borg have a tougher time adapting to the mix of Federation and Romulan weaponry, but they adapt nonetheless. I have used all my preset options. Chef and I might be able to modify the phasers. Sub-Lieutenant, do you think that you can modify your disruptor and mine?"

"Perhaps," Ta'Sem drew her disruptor from her holster. "I am not a weapons engineer by trade, but I know a thing or two. Perhaps our weapons designer here can help." Ta'Sem pointed towards Rikka.

"Oh no, I don't think I could…"

"Ensign, do you know the science behind phasers and disruptors?" asked Frank.

"Well…yes, I do."

"Good, we need any expertise we can get."

Ta'Sem picked up Frank's disruptor. "Where did you get this? This is a command issued disruptor. It was custom made for a high ranking officer. Only commanders and admirals carry these."

"And colonels," said Frank.

Ta'Sem looked right at Frank. "This is Colonel Gaiath's personal weapon."

"One of them," said Frank. "The other is in the armory with the rest of our confiscated Romulan weaponry." Ta'Sem gave him another puzzled look. "We captured Col. Gaiath twice, don't you remember?"

"I see," said the Romulan woman. Frank eyed her suspiciously. "I am aware that Capt. Lander captured Gaiath herself the second and final time. Were you the one who captured him the first time? Is that why you claimed his weapon?"

"Me, no. You have Chef here to thank for that."

Ta'Sem turned her head to Chef in surprise. "Matthews?"

"Yeah, that was me," was all that Chef said.

Frank decided that Chef's modesty could be set aside for one story. "Capt. Lander ordered Chef to assault Gaiath hand-to-hand so that a transporter operator could lock on to the two of them and pull Gaiath away from his men. Wait, wasn't the transporter operator Vibee?"

Chef nodded yes to Frank's question, but Ta'Sem squared up her body to directly face Chef. "You engaged in hand-to-hand combat with a military trained Romulan?" Frank thought there was something more genuine in the Romulan woman's question than in her previous inquiry about the disruptor.

"Yes, I pinned him and disarmed him."

"You wrestled a stronger Romulan man to the ground?" a note of disbelief was in Ta'Sem's voice.

"It wasn't easy," said Chef modestly.

Ta'Sem nodded her understanding. Frank thought he saw some other expression on the woman's face, but he wasn't sure. "Why don't you two Starfleet security men work on the phasers. The weapons designer and I will try to modify the disruptors."

Frank gave Ta'Sem a nod. Rikka reluctantly began working with the Romulan woman. Frank picked up his phaser and brought it over to Chef.

"Can you get us additional phasers?" asked Chef.

"Yeah. I can access any weapons' storage locker. Whatever modifications we make to this one we can duplicate on others." Frank leaded in closer and lowered his voice. "Better watch out for that one, Chef."

"Ta'Sem? I know," said Chef, also with a lowered voice. "She knows more than she lets on."

"You think she's dangerous?" asked Frank.

"I think she is a deceptive Romulan, but in the circumstances I think we can trust her. She knows her best chance of survival is with us."

"I figured all that," said Frank. "But that is not what I meant when I said you better watch her."

"I don't follow," said Chef.

"She has eyes for you, Chef. She finds you intriguing, and you impress her." Frank noticed Chef begin to look over his should at Ta'Sem but then stop himself. Frank smiled and looked at Chef. "Maybe you ought to watch yourself as well."

* * *

"Captain, I am ethically obliged to ask you once again: Are you sure you want me to do this?"

"Yes, I am sure," answered Lindsey to the holographic doctor.

"This is an unnecessary medical procedure with potential consequences I cannot understand," continued the EMH.

"Ensign?" Lindsey turned towards Seven of Nine. "Could there be unforeseen consequences?"

"Unlikely," said the Borg woman. "I am confident in my ability to program Borg technology. The nanoprobes will do exactly what I've programed them to do."

"So, you say there is no chance that they will…misbehave?" asked the EMH.

Seven paused, "The chance of the probes going rogue is minimal."

"Minimal!" The holographic doctor was clearly not liking the situation. "If even one of these probes goes bad it will multiply, and eventually will complete the assimilation process."

"Doctor, there is always risk in medicine," argued Lindsey. "Some treatments are potentially harmful."

"But this is not a medical treatment," countered the EMH.

"No, it's a disguise," said Lindsey. "Starfleet doctors have been known on several occasions to change the appearance of an officer in order to appear to be a different species. This is no different."

"It is different," said the perturbed doctor. "Those are prosthetics to give one…pointy ears. This is much more than that."

"Doctor! I am tired of arguing," Lindsey sat up from the biobed. "I know the risk, but I also know the need. Unless you tell me that you absolutely cannot continue on ethical grounds, I am ordering you to proceed."

"Very well," said the doctor. "Please recline."

Lindsey took a deep breath and rested her head on the reclined biobed. The holographic doctor inserted a solution into the IV port in her arm. "Nanoprobes are now in the blood stream. They will be affixing themselves to your blood cells any moment."

"They already are," said Seven of Nine.

"Do you feel any changes?" asked the doctor.

"No. Should I?"

"You should not," said Seven of Nine. "If the nanoprobes follow my programing, they should not interfere with any of your biological functions."

"Good to know," said Lindsey. Not content to sit, Lindsey rose off the biobed and walked around the room. After a few minutes she asked, "How do we know if this worked?"

"We check the internal sensors," said Seven.

Lindsey walked over the console from where she had been watching the remaining crew. "The Vulcan female is still hiding near the science lab."

"That seems to be a logical place for Lt. T'Sel to be hiding," said Seven.

"Perhaps," Lindsey didn't want her misgivings about the Vulcan female to reach Seven, but Lindsey had seen Lt. T'Sel escape to the stardrive. And if that Vulcan woman wasn't T'Sel, that left only one other person it could be. "It looks like our foursome has taken shelter in someone's quarters."

"You should check sick bay," said Seven who was fiddling with the modified nanoprobes.

"Sick bay?" Lindsey looked at Seven, who merely raised her eyebrow. Lindsey decided to oblige the woman. "In sick bay I am seeing one female with a mixed Borg/human signature. That would be you, Ensign. Our holographic doctor, of course, won't show up on this scan. And I see…" Lindsey stopped and double checked the reading. "I see a Borg drone."

"That would be you, Commander," said Seven. "You are now giving off the life signature of a Borg drone, and so you will be perceived by the Borg."

"Incredible," said Lindsey. "But the Borg can see. Will they not notice my lack of implants?"

"Yes, Borg drones can see," answered Seven. "But the Collective does not pay attention to the appearance of other drones. Aesthetics are irrelevant."

"Good to know. How long will this disguise last?"

"I programmed the nanoprobes to self-terminate after thirty days. It will take a few more days to completely purge them from your body."

"A Borg for a month. That's a thought," said Lindsey. A new concern arose in Lindsey's mind. "Ensign, if the _Orion's_ internal sensors see me as a Borg drone, what about the external sensors of other ships: Starfleet, Romulan, or Reman?"

"They will also see you as a Borg drone."

"Then they won't know that we are on board the ship," said Lindsey. "They may decide to destroy this ship with no attempt at rescue if they do not know we are here."

"A valid concern," said Seven. "I believe that reestablishing a form of communication should be our top priority after we apply our disguise to the rest of the crew on board."

"Agreed," answered Lindsey. "Your turn. We can have you walking around as half a drone."

"It is already done. My body possesses nanoprobes. I merely needed to send a few modified nanoprobes into my blood. The rest will adapt. I will register as full drone in only a few minutes. I suggest one us go and bring the other survivors here for application of their disguise."

"Negative, Ensign. I have a better idea." Lindsey took her combadge off her shirt. "Can you reprogram one of these to communicate with a holographic matrix?" Seven raised her eyebrow, and both women looked at the EMH.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 _Flag Officer's log; stardate 58085.2: Our reinforcements have arrived. My three ship fleet is now increased to five ships with the addition of the_ Resistant _and the_ Courageous _. The Romulan and Reman forces have also arrived. We now have a sizable fleet to fight the Borg cube, if only we can find a way for three very different forces to work together._

A large fleet of ships came out of warp around the Romulan colony planet. They were almost all of Romulan design, though some were older models. They flew in two formations. One was Cmdr. Donatra's fleet, led by her flagship the _Valdore._ The other was the Reman fleet, smaller and older but still capable.

"There is a site for sore eyes," said Capt. Shelby.

"Speak for yourself," answered Hickensen. "I still see Romulan warbirds decloaking in my nightmares." Janeway looked at the young man. It must have been a surreal sight for him. Lt. Cmdr. Hickensen, a survivor of the original _Orion's_ ambush, had good reason to view Romulans as enemies.

"Sorry, Commander," replied Shelby. "I wasn't referring to the Romulan ships, but to the two _Defiant_ class ships, in particular the _Resistant_." Shelby turned to face Janeway, who was sitting in the captain's chair. "Admiral, requesting permission to disembark and retake command of my ship."

"Permission granted, Captain," answered Janeway. "You have been a great help to the _Orion_ and to me personally, but now I need you in command of your own starship."

"Thank you, Admiral," replied Shelby as bowed her head and exited the bridge.

"She's eager to return," said Hickensen.

"You would be too, in her place," said Janeway. "She may also be eager to test her ship against the Borg. She had to sit helplessly in our last battle. Captains don't like being sidelined. Besides, the _Defiant_ class ships were initially designed by Capt. Sisko to take on the Borg."

"And if there is a _Defiant_ class ship that should test itself on the Borg it is the _Resistant_ ," said Hickensen.

"The _Defiant_ class has already taken on the Borg," said Janeway. "The original _Defiant_ fought in the Battle of Sector 001. It was damaged but recovered after the battle." Janeway herself had been lost in the Delta Quadrant during that battle and had only learned about it from reading the reports.

"I remember that," said Hickensen with a reflective look on his face. "I remember being scared that day. The Borg right above Earth!"

Janeway looked at Hickensen. "I don't recall you ever being assigned to any of the starships in that battle nor to Earth's defense forces."

Hickensen smiled back at Janeway. "I wasn't. I was living on Earth at the time, attending prep-school."

Janeway stared at him incredibly. Then she put on a stern face and lowered her voice. "Your making me feel old, Commander." Janeway had simply forgotten how young Mr. Hickensen was. "Commander, join me in my ready room. Mr. Thrim, you have the bridge."

Janeway stood from her chair and walked to the small room off the bridge that she had commandeered at as her office. Hickensen followed her in and asked, "What can I do for you, Admiral?"

Janeway sat in the chair behind the small desk. "I have been thinking a lot about what you said to me yesterday, and I have decided to keep my flag on the _Orion_."

"We are happy to have you on board, Admiral," replied Hickensen.

"I have also decided that naming a new captain for this ship is premature. We don't know the status of Capt. Lander, she may still be alive. Thus, I have decided as flag officer to take the responsibility of the captaincy upon myself. And as both captain and admiral, I will need to lean upon you, Mr. Hickensen to manage the details and to command this ship in battle. Are you ready such responsibility?"

"Yes, Admiral, I am," answered Hickensen in a formal tone.

"Good," said Janeway. "My need for your help will begin right away. In three hours, I and the other captains will beam down to the surface to meet with the Romulan and Reman military commanders. I want you to represent the _Orion_."

"Of course, Admiral."

"But I cannot have an under-ranked officer standing next to me."

"I don't understand, Admiral," said Hickensen, who lifted his hand as if to scratch his head then caught himself before he did so.

Janeway opened a draw in the desk and pulled out a rank pip. "At attention, Lieutenant Commander." Hickensen straighten as Janeway stood in front of him. She reached up to his collar and pulled off the hollow rank pip next to his two solid pips. "Mr. Hickensen, I hereby promote you to the full rank of commander." Janeway placed the solid rank pip in the place where the hollow one was before, now giving him three solid gold pips. "Congratulations, Commander."

"Thank you, Admiral," said Hickensen, a bit flustered. "But if this is just for show; to make me look good in front of the Romulans, then I must object."

"The timing may be for show," said Janeway. "But you've earned it, Commander." Janeway grabbed a data pad and handed it to Hickensen, so he could read it. "This is a request to Star Fleet Command for your promotion. It is signed by both Capt. Lander and Capt. Benteen. Attached are two letters of testimony on your behalf, one from Capt. Picard and another from Cmdr. Worf. Starfleet had approved your promotion and was merely waiting for our return."

"I see," said Hickensen. "Then I gratefully accept this promotion and honor." Janeway saw a smile of relief come across Hickensen's face. He finally possessed the rank for which his position as first officer called.

But then Cmdr. Hickensen dropped his head. "Is something wrong, Commander?" asked Janeway.

"No, well, yes; but that can't be helped right now. Unless you can magically retrieve the _Orion's_ saucer and everyone on it." Hickensen looked up at Adm. Janeway. "Can I ask you: were there any other promotions that Starfleet had accepted?"

Janeway understood. "You want to know if Lander was going to be promoted to the rank of captain?"

"Yes, Admiral. I do."

"She was," said Janeway. "And her command of the _Orion_ was going to be secured. I'm sorry, Commander. If she is still alive, then we will do everything we can to get her back."

"Thank you, Admiral."

* * *

Grant's hand slipped again as he tried to modify the inner workings of his phaser. With over two full days of hypervigilance, to say that Grant was feeling wore down was an understatement. If he didn't get some sleep soon, he would no longer be able to function. It was fortunate that Chef and his new Romulan friend had grabbed food and water, but their provisions were being depleted.

Grant dropped his tool. As he picked it up, Matthews leaned over and whispered, "Frank, you need to take a break."

"I'm fine, Chef."

"You're nearly falling asleep on your feet. You need some rest. Get some sleep, I will take the first shift."

"What about you?"

"I will sleep after you. Don't be the tough guy, Frank. You know your limits, and I know mine. I'm reaching the end too. We're no good to them if we can't function at our best."

"Hold on a second." Grant stood up from his work and faced the women. "How are you two progressing?"

"Got one done," said Ta'Sem. "Our weapons designer here is better than I thought."

Ens. Rikka Samae lifted the Romulan disruptor pistol. "We won't know how effective it will be until we test it on some drones." She waved the weapon around in the air.

Chef reached out his long arm and grabbed the Romulan weapon. "Careful! Let's not test it accidentally on one of us."

"Sorry," said the sheepish ensign. She gently set the weapon down. Grant laughed to himself. The young Bajoran woman was doing surprisingly well. She also seemed to be the one with the most energy. Grant couldn't tell whether her Bajoran physiology gave her the added endurance or if she had gotten some rest earlier.

"I wish I could say that we have had equal progress here," Grant held up his phaser. "A few more tries, and we should have it."

"We will modify our other disruptor," said Ta'Sem. "You had mentioned other confiscated weapons. Would we be able to retrieve them?"

"They are in the armory. And I think it is too dangerous to try that now. We could…"

There was a buzzing noise to Grant's left followed by a voice. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency." Rikka screamed and fired the disruptor at the suddenly appearing bald man. Her shot went wide and burned a hole in one of Melinda Vibee's posters. Chef once again grabbed the disruptor from Rikka. "What is the meaning of this? What could you possibly accomplish by shooting a hologram?"

"Easy, Doctor," said Grant. "You simply frighten her."

"Doctor?" asked Ta'Sem. "Your doctor is a hologram?"

"An Emergence Medical Hologram," answered the EMH. "I am activated in situations where the normal medical staff is unable to fulfill the medical needs of the ship."

"Isn't installing holographic projectors in personal quarters an invasion of privacy." Ta'Sem raised an eyebrow, which made her almost look Vulcan.

"There are holographic emitters throughout the ship," said the EMH. "Do you wish me to quote the percentage of medical emergencies that occur in the personal quarters of crewmen?"

"Doctor!" interrupted Grant. "What are you doing here?"

"Wouldn't you need the main computer online to activate such a hologram?" asked Ta'Sem. "How is it that you are even active?"

"Sure, I will answer your questions, even though you didn't answer mine, which my programing demands me to ask even if I know fully well that there is no medical emergency."

"Doctor!" said Grant trying to bypass the hologram's digression.

The EMH let out a sigh. "The answer to both your questions is the same. The Captain has gained access to the main computer and sent me to guide you to her, even after I tried to tell her that I am a doctor not a combadge."

"Adm. Janeway or Capt. Lander?" asked Chef.

"Capt. Lander. She has modified her combadge to speak directly into my matrix."

"You can hear the Captain?" asked Grant. The EMH nodded yes. "Can we hear her? Can you let us talk to her?"

"Of course." The EMH tapped his holographic combadge. "Captain, your crew wishes to speak to you."

"This Capt. Lander. Report. Who is there; what is your status; is anyone injured?"

"This is Lt. Cmdr. Ulysses Francis Grant. I have here Ens. Rikka Samae, Sub-Lt. Ta'Sem of the Romulan military, and civilian Richard Matthews. All four of us are fine. There has been no sign of any others."

"Chef!? What are you doing here?"

"It was my responsibility to help evacuate the mess hall." Chef passed for a bit. "Captain, what was the last meal I served you?"

"A roast beef sandwich with au jus dipping sauce and a spinach salad with French dressing."

"Thank you, Captain," said Chef, apparently satisfied that it really was Capt. Lander.

"What is your status, Captain? And where are you?" asked Grant.

"No time for that," said the Captain's voice. "Follow the doctor's instructions, he will lead you around the Borg patrols."

"How?" asked Rikka.

"I have access to internal sensors," explained the Captain. "I can see you and the Borg drones on my work console here. I will guide the doctor, and he will guide you. Once you're here, I can tell you more."

"Okay, Captain, we are on our way," said Grant. "Everyone is to follow the Doctor and stay quiet. Ta'Sem, hand me the modified disruptor."

Ta'Sem held the disruptor close to her chest. "Why? I have more training in this weapon than you."

"Because I outrank you Sub-Lieutenant, and you are on a Starfleet ship. Our ship, our rules."

Ta'Sem looked at Chef, who gave her a nod. She reluctantly gave up the disruptor, but promptly picked up the second disruptor. Grant was aware that the weapon maybe ineffective against Borg, but it would still do considerable damage to him. Realizing that he would have to show trust to earn trust, Grant deliberately turned his defenseless back to the Romulan woman. "Let's go, Doctor."

The holographic doctor led the way out of Melinda Vibee's quarters and through the corridors. Frequently he stopped to let a Borg patrol pass ahead, or sometimes he had them turn around and go down a different path. Once he even told them to run back the way they came. It was for Grant a nerve-racking experience.

* * *

"There's another Borg patrol coming," said Seven.

"Doctor, go back two corridors. Your current route is not safe." Lindsey looked at the internal sensor console which displayed her four crewmen in yellow and the Borg drones in green. "This is like the most evil game of Pac-Man ever."

"I am not familiar with this 'Pac-Man'," said Seven.

"Oh, um. It was a very popular early computerized game in Earth's twentieth century. You controlled a character called Pac-Man and had to avoid four ghosts trying to kill you."

"I think I understand the similarities," said Seven.

"One of my engineers enjoys making holodeck programs. His most recent one is a twentieth century arcade."

"He sounds a lot like Tom Paris."

"Doctor, take the next left," said Lindsey into her combadge. "Who is Tom Paris?" asked Lindsey, returning to Seven.

"Another Borg patrol," said Seven, and Lindsey gave the appropriate command to the EMH. Seven continued, "Tom Paris was _Voyager's_ helmsman. He also loved creating holodeck programing and all things twentieth century Earth."

"We will have to arrange a meeting, if we survive this. Doctor, go right."

"He would enjoy that, as well as your 'arcade program.' Commander, if you can get them to this corridor, they can take the Jefferies tubes right into sick bay."

"That is what I am trying to do. Doctor, stop! Wait a minute." Lindsey watched as a pair of Borg drones walked through a corridor intersection. "Doctor, go now; straight ahead and fast." The four yellow signatures moved quickly through the corridor intersection, just ahead of another Borg patrol. Lindsey gave a sigh of relief. "Doctor, two sections down there is a Jefferies tube access hatch on the left. Take them there." Lindsey continued to direct the EMH until they were just outside of sick bay. "Seven, open the hatch."

Seven on Nine opened the waist high hatch, and out came the team: first the EMH, then Chef followed by the Romulan Sub-Lieutenant and the Bajoran Ensign, and lastly Lt. Cmdr. Grant. "Ens. Annika Hansen, glad to see that you are all right," said Frank.

"I am pleased that you survived as well, Lieutenant Commander."

"How long can we stay hidden in sick bay?" asked Frank.

"For as long as we want," said Lindsey. "Or we can go where ever we want on this saucer. Miss. Hansen here has developed a way to hide from the Borg."

"Really?" said the Romulan woman.

"How?" asked the Bajoran Ensign.

"We can explain as we go," said Lindsey. She pointed to Frank. "Seven, Doctor, start with Lt. Cmdr. Grant. I want him camouflaged from the Borg as soon as possible."

* * *

"You ready, Admiral?"

"No," answered Janeway, but she straightened her formal admiral's uniform anyway and put on a stern and determined look. Henry realized that he would never win a card game against Adm. Janeway's poker face. He had a lot to learn about diplomacy.

"Romulan guards entered into the large meeting room, which Henry had been told was the colony's central court room. He could tell by the variety of guards that members of each Romulan faction was represented. Indeed, he saw Proconsul Tomalak representing Praetor Tal'Aura, Rudal representing the warhawks, and Cmdr. Donatra herself leading the military. From another door came the Remans. The only one that Henry recognized was Colonel Xiomek. Both groups were accompanied by various ship captains and military commanders. The Starfleet contingent consisted of Adm. Janeway, Capts. Benteen, Jenner, Shelby, and Barto, and lastly the newly promoted Cmdr. Hickensen.

Donatra allowed Tomalak to take the central position, which was clearly a painful submission on her part. Henry took that as a good sign that the Romulans were at least united against the Borg. Donatra did not however allow Rudal to sit between her and Tomalak. He instead sat on Tomalak's left. Henry decided they would not be able to solve all Romulan infighting at one meeting.

Once everyone was at their spots, Tomalak invited everyone to be seated with his gently outstretched arms, and everyone took their seat at the same time. A polite and courteous tone to start the meeting. Then Tomalak, acting as the presider of the meeting, spoke. "Welcome everyone to this meeting. Thank you for coming. We are here to discuss a matter of grave importance not just to the survival of the Romulan…" Tomalak paused as though in pain. "…and Reman empires, but to the whole Alpha Quadrant."

"If I may, Proconsul," interrupted Donatra. "I think we may dispense with the pleasantries. This is not political meeting, nor a discussion about power sharing or territory claims. This is a council of war. You were once a Romulan Commander, Tomalak, before you were a politician. I believe you know how to proceed accordingly."

"I would also appreciate a direct discussion on the battle ahead," said Col. Xiomek.

Tomalak looked at Janeway, who merely replied, "It's why we're here."

"Very well, Commander," said Tomalak to Donatra. "Let us get to the heart of the matter. Adm. Janeway, I believe we should start with your assessment of the Borg threat."

"We engage a single Borg cube," said Janeway. "We inflicted damage upon the cube; however, the Borg can quickly regenerate their damaged sections."

"Your damage will not be so easily regenerated," said Rudal with a sneer.

"No, it won't. But I have not forgotten it. Nor have forgotten the man you lost," said Janeway to Rudal. She then returned her attention to the group. "We cannot be satisfied in the mere damaging of the cube. In our next attack we need to destroy the cube."

"One ship verse three fleets," said one of the Romulan captains. "That should not be so hard."

Janeway dropped her voice into her ominous tone that Henry had found particularly effective. "Do not underestimate even a single Borg cube. There was only one cube at the Battle of Wolf 359. An entire fleet was destroyed there. And there was only one cube at the Battle of Sector 001. If it hadn't been for Capt. Jean Luc Picard and his knowledge of the Borg, Earth would have been lost."

"From all that I have heard about the Borg, I must agree with Adm. Janeway," said Donatra. "We should not underestimate this threat."

"I believe there is only one question here," said Xiomek. "We have three fleets here, Reman, Romulan, and Starfleet. Who should lead?"

There was a silence in the room. Henry knew that the Reman Colonel had asked the right question. Three groups who despised each other were attempting to engage in a join military assault. Henry couldn't count the number of things that could go wrong.

Not surprisingly Rudal of the warhawk party spoke first. "The largest and grandest military force here is the Romulan fleet. I suggest that we command the battle."

"The Reman fleet is not much smaller than the Romulan fleet," said Col. Xiomek. "And I have seen the enemy for myself."

"Those relicts that you call starships don't count for half our fleet," said a female Romulan captain.

"You forget during all those years of slavery, it was the Remans who crewed your great fleets. We know as much about these ships as you do, maybe more," replied Xiomek. "Our fleet maybe old, but it is more than capable."

"Perhaps we will see in battle," countered the Romulan captain. Both Xiomek and the Romulan woman stood up.

Before Tomalak could call for order, Donatra stood up and commanded her officer to sit back down. After things had become silent again Donatra lowered herself and spoke in a gentle voice. "The size and firepower of the Romulan fleet will be a large factor in the coming battle."

"You have not yet seen our firepower," said Xiomek.

Henry was wondering when Janeway would enter the conversation. He was not surprised when she chose this moment. "The number of ships will not be the determining factor in this battle and the Borg cannot be stopped by mere firepower. They will adapt." Janeway extended her hands to encompass everyone in the room. "Victory will be through coordination and cleverness."

"I suppose that you are suggesting that you lead the attack," said Rudal.

"I have the most experience with the Borg. I know better than anyone in all three of these fleets the Borg and their weaknesses. However, I do not believe that we will ever be able to settle upon a single leader for all three fleets. Instead, I propose we divide our forces into three attack wings: one Romulan, one Reman, and one Starfleet. Each will have its own leader who will pledge his or herself to the good of the entire fleet."

"Your Starfleet attack wing will be quite small," said Tomalak. "Unless you plan on bringing more ships from Federation Space." At that comment Rudal almost stood up to object, but Janeway spoke first.

"No, I do not plan on bringing more ships. Five ships are all that will come," said Janeway. "I envision the Romulan and Reman wings providing the firepower, while the Starfleet wing provides precision strikes. As I said, I know more about the Borg than anyone else here. My fleet maybe smaller, but it may be just as effective."

"Do you not mean four ships, Admiral," said Rudal. "Your flagship was destroyed."

"Admiral?" spoke Henry. Janeway gave him a nod of permission, so he spoke, "The _Orion_ was designed for such a separation. Indeed, the loss of the saucer is crippling, but we have compensated, adapted if you will. We have changed from a _Galaxy_ class battleship to a smaller, faster, more maneuverable assault ship. The _Orion_ will hold its own."

"Tactics over firepower," added Janeway. "I myself will continue to command the Federation fleet from the _Orion_. If there are no more questions about the capabilities of my fleet, I would like to continue to a discussion of tactics. I have a plan in mind that I would like to bring forward."

Xiomek nodded his approval. Donatra gave a nod to Tomalak, who said, "Very well. Proceed, Admiral." Henry allowed himself to relax as he began to help Janeway in her presentation.

* * *

"How long before these nanoprobes begin working?" asked Frank

"They already are," said Miss. Hansen. "They will need time to spread through your blood stream and assimilate your blood cells." Frank shuttered at the word assimilate.

"Some good cardio exercise would quicken the pace, Commander," said the EMH. "A little increase in blood flow will spread the nanoprobes more quickly."

"Alright, Doc, I'll go hit the gym."

"Not right now," said Lindsey. "There is another crewwoman on this ship. We need to find her."

"Just one other?" asked Frank. "I can believe we were that effective in our evacuation."

"We weren't," said Lindsey. "Seventy-seven people, including myself, were on this saucer when the stardrive departed."

"Seventy-seven!" said Rikka Samae. "There six of us here, and one other you say. What about the other seventy?"

"I can't find them on the internal sensors," said Lindsey. "They are likely dead or worse, Ensign." Rikka Samae's face dropped, and Frank knew that she was thinking of her sister.

"Then we better recover this last crewwoman before she suffers the same fate," said Frank, not wanting to think about those he lost anymore that Samae. "Let me know where she is, and I'll get her. I would like to wait for Chef's nanoprobe injection, so we can go together."

"Not necessary," said Lindsey. "You and I will go."

"Commander, that is not wise!" said Hansen. The Borg woman paused a bit to readjust her tone of voice as she spoke to her superior. "What I mean to say is that you and Cmdr. Grant are the only senior officers here. You should not both go into danger."

"I agree, Lindsey," said Chef.

"Well, you're not Starfleet, Richard," said Lindsey. "And you, Ensign, don't out rank me." Lindsey was rarely so blunt. Whatever reasoning was behind Lindsey's decision, she clearly did not want to explain it to anyone. Frank knew that, and Chef got the message. It was Hansen that didn't see it.

"Commander, I do not believe…"

"It is not up to discussion, Seven. That's final. If Lt. Cmdr. Grant and I do not return, you are in command. Is that clear, Ensign?"

"Clear, Commander."

"Good. Frank, you're with me." Lindsey crawled into the Jefferies tube, and Frank followed. Once they were out in the corridors, Lindsey spoke again. "Time for that cardio the doctor spoke of." Both she and Frank went down the corridors at a good jog.

After a bit, Lindsey stopped him, and pointed down the hallway. Two drones were walking towards them. "Let's see if Seven's disguise worked. Cover me." Frank hugged the corner while Lindsey walked down the middle of the hallway, right towards the drones. Frank held both his phaser and disruptor in a ready position as Lindsey and the drones came closer together. They were almost about to collide when the two drones split and let Lindsey walk right between them. Frank let out his breath. Lindsey waved at him. He hostler his weapons, stepped out, and walked towards the drones, matching their pace. They moved to the side, and Frank walked passed them.

"Wow," said Frank quietly.

"I know," replied Lindsey. "Let's find our crewwoman."

"Who is it?" asked Frank.

"I'm not sure," said Lindsey in a causal voice, which told Frank that she was hiding something.

"Lindsey, I know you, and I know when you're hiding something."

"I doubt that."

"Want to bet? I know that you and Henry are in some sort of relationship." Lindsey stopped and faced Frank in surprise. "You can't hide things from your friends, Lindsey; they always find out. Which is why I know something is up."

Lindsey nodded, "And that is why I wanted you to come, and not the others." Lindsey began leading Frank again.

"Can you explain further?"

"The crewwoman we are looking for is a Vulcan female."

"Lt. T'Sel." said Frank.

"No, I saw T'Sel evacuate to the stardrive."

"Then who…?" asked Frank, knowing that T'Sel was the only Vulcan on the _Orion_.

"Someone from my recent past."

"Tell me."

"I would rather not say." But Lindsey stopped walking and raised first her three end fingers and then separately her index finger. Frank's eyes widen as he registered the three and the one. "Now do you understand why I wanted you?"

Frank nodded. He was one of the few officers on the _Orion_ that actually knew the full story of Lindsey's disappearance two years ago. She had been kidnapped by a secret Federation shadow organization called Section 31. Frank did not know what it meant if Section 31 was on the _Orion_ , but it was certainly cause for concern.

Lindsey and Frank came to the corridor outside the science lab. Two drones stood guard at the door. Lindsey waved Frank on, and both of them walked between the drones and into the lab. Once the door was closed behind them, Lindsey spoke. "Clear the room. I will check the internal sensors and find our mystery passenger. Last I looked she was somewhere in this area."

"Captain," said Frank with concern. Lindsey came to him and Frank pointed to a hole cut into the wall. "I don't think she is in the area. I think she is in the lab." Frank started pivoting, taking in the whole dark room and looking for some sign of a living being. Lindsey, using her computer access raised the lights. Then Frank saw the hidden figure. "Halt!" Frank pointed his phaser at the moving shadow.

A female figure in a blue science uniform slowly stood up, arms in the air. At first Frank thought it was Lt. T'Sel, but then he could see that this was a different, younger, Vulcan woman. He had never seen her before, but apparently Lindsey had. "Agent Ta'Prim! Don't move!" Lindsey walked up to the Vulcan woman. "What are you doing here on this ship."

The Vulcan woman slowly lowered her arms slightly, but still kept them away from the phaser clipped to her belt. "Capt. Lander, I wish you wouldn't use my name."

"He's read in," said Lindsey with a nod of her head to Frank. "And you are hardly in a position to make demands."

"We are on the same side, Captain."

"That remains to be seen," replied Lindsey. "So, let me ask again. What the hell is Section 31 doing on my ship?!"

"It is not obvious?" asked Ta'Prim with a raise of her eyebrow. "I told you that this Borg threat was not a Romulan trick. I am here to deal with the very real Borg threat."

"That is my job," said Lindsey. "Section 31 can stay out of it."

"While you have proven yourself competent, Captain," said Ta'Prim. "Starfleet often lacks the ability to do what must be done. Jean Luc Picard once had a chance to eliminate the Collective, but his ethics stood in his way. I am here to make sure that doesn't happen again."

"They are just as crazy as you said, Captain," said Frank.

Ta'Prim looked at Frank. "Commander, this is not crazy; it is logical." Frank had no desire to argue logic with a Vulcan. Even if he was right, he knew that he would not likely be able to convince a Vulcan who had clearly made up her mind.

"How were you trying to do that?" asked Lindsey. Ta'Prim hesitated, Lindsey continued. "You said we were on the same side, did you not? I may have a stronger ethic than you, but our objective is the same. We need to defeat the Borg."

Ta'Prim spoke as if quoting, "'Our objectives, maybe. Our means, never,' are those not the words you once spoke to me? If I tell you my plans, then you will try to stop me."

"And did you not accuse me of illogically attempting to predict the future?" asked Lindsey. "Now who is predicting the future. We are in a different situation, facing a different threat." Frank began to wonder at what previous time Lindsey and Ta'Prim had held this debate.

"Let us test this with a hypothetical situation," said Ta'Prim. "What if I told you that I had a way to wipe out the entire Collective; would you help me implement it?"

"I might," said Lindsey.

"Would that not be genocide, Captain; the greatest sin a Starfleet officer could commit?" said Ta'Prim, playing her own devil's advocate.

"The Borg is not just a race or a tribe or a social group," answered Lindsey. "It is a Collective with a single mind. And that mind seems hellbent on assimilating humanity and the Federation. It has shown no signs of diplomacy. Negotiation with the Borg is futile. Sadly, the only way to deal with them is to eliminate the threat.

"And, might I add," continued Lindsey. "I am aware of the decision of Capt. Picard to which you referred. It was not the Collective that Picard decided not to attack; but a liberated drone, Hugh I believe was his name. Picard did not ethically believe he could sacrifice an individual. Picard was later ordered by Adm. Nechayev to never pass on such an opportunity again. I consider those my orders as well."

Ta'Prim raised her eyebrow. "Not the answer I expected from you, Captain."

Lindsey indicated to Frank to lower his weapon. "Time to stop being hypothetical, Ta'Prim. Do you have a means to eliminate the Collective?"

"Unfortunately, no," answered Ta'Prim. "I returned to the _Orion_ to retrieve Ens. Annika Hansen's reports on the Borg." Ta'Prim lowered her arms. "I had to cut my way through the wall in order to get in here. How did you get passed the guards?"

"Nanoprobe disguises," said Lindsey. "Our life signatures read as Borg. They think we're drones."

Ta'Prim in a slow, non-threatening manner, grabbed a triquarter and did a sweep over both Lindsey and Frank. "Fascinating. I presume that you have access to Miss. Hansen's research through your main computer."

"Don't you?" asked Lindsey. "I would have thought you would have found a way in."

"It is true that I came here to access your computer again, and I may have succeeded except that Janeway locked out everyone but herself. How did you gain access?"

"No one locks me out of my own computer. But my methods are irrelevant. What is relevant is that I not only have access to the main computer and Miss. Hansen's information, but I also have access to Miss. Hansen herself. She is in sickbay with the rest of the crew we were able to rescue." Lindsey stepped forward, "I need all the minds I can get in order to best the Borg. Which means that I need you, Ta'Prim. But I cannot allow you to act behind my back. So, I ask you this, are you willing to set aside your Section 31 methods and work under the constrictions of a Starfleet captain?"

"Will I have access to Miss. Hansen's reports?"

"You can read them, but you cannot have a copy for Section 31 to keep."

"Very well," said Ta'Prim. "We will stand a greater chance working together, even if it means compromising on my part. It is logical."

"Good…" Lindsey looked at Ta'Prim's single rank pip. "…Ensign. Let's get you some Borg nanoprobes for your blood stream."

* * *

"O'Hara, I just promised a room full of Romulans and Remans that the _Orion_ would be combat ready. Am I bluffing, or do I hold the right cards?"

Alivia looked up at the newly promoted Cmdr. Hickensen. "We have overhauled the impulse engines as you requested and pushed their red line much higher. They should be able to handle the increase in energy you requested, but not forever. They were simply not designed to put out that much thrust."

"And the phasers."

"We are still working on them," said Alivia as she picked up a phaser emitter with a blacken end. "In our tests we've been burning out the emitters after only three firings. We have some ideas, and I think we should have them working by the end of the day." Alivia lost her grip on the emitter and it fell on her foot. She gave a brief yelp followed by a colorful array of violent Gaelic swear words in her Irish brogue.

When she looked up, she saw Cmdr. Hickensen's concerned face. He was waving away her subordinates which meant he was preparing for a private conversation. "Alivia, are you alright?"

"My foot is fine. It's a hazard of being an engineer."

"That is not what I meant," said Hickensen. "How are you handling your husband's situation?"

A whole new pain threatened to flood Alivia's mind, and tears began to form on her eyes. "Don't, Commander, don't ask me that."

"I have to, Alivia. I need to know that my crew is alright. If you need me to, I can call Vlad. He could take over for you."

"No! I can do my job."

"Alivia, you need a break," said Hickensen. "You have been working nonstop since the Borg battle, barely stopping to eat, drink, or sleep. You can't keep going like this."

"I have to keep going," pleaded Alivia. "If I stop, then I will think of Frank; and if I think of him, I will start crying; and I don't know if I could stop." As though to prove her point Alivia's eyes began to stream with tears.

Cmdr. Hickensen reached out and embraced Alivia in a hug. "Alivia, it's time for a break. Come with me." Perhaps Alivia was exhausted in her grief or perhaps it was Hickensen's compassionate voice, but whatever it was Alivia found herself following the Commander almost like she was hypnotized. Cmdr. Hickensen lead her into a transporter room and dismissed the petty officer at the controls. He then sat her down on the steps of the transporter platform and sat beside her. "Alivia, talk to me. If not me, then one of the counselors. You can't bottle it up."

Alivia broke down. "I don't know how to do this. I have only been married to him for a few weeks, but now I can't imagine my life without him. Every time I think of Frank, I feel myself shut down. I can't think of him dead, and I certainly can't think of him as part of the Borg Collective; I can't. If I do, it paralyzes me. I can hardly breath." As if to demonstrate, Alivia began to breathe more heavily. Her heart felt like it was pounding against her rib cage. Her hands were shaking.

"Alivia, how much sleep have you gotten since the attack?"

"Two or three hours fitful hours."

"Alivia," Cmdr. Hickensen shook his head. "I have to relieve you of duty. I can't have an unhealthy individual running Engineering."

"If leave my work, then all I have is my haunted nightmares," said Alivia. "I feel like it would be better knowing for sure what has happened to him. It can't be worse than imaging all the horrible possibilities."

"I'm sure that it would both be better and far worse," said Hickensen with a sigh. Alivia searched the young man in front of her. It was only for a second, but Alivia had seen through his perpetual poker face. Henry Hickensen was not immune to the same feelings that Alivia was experiencing.

"How do you do it, Commander?"

"Do what?"

"Handle the fear, the pain, the torture of not knowing."

"I hope for the best," he answered. "Alivia, I can't pretend to know what you're going through. All those people on the saucer are my crewmates, my responsibility. But Frank is your husband. I have nobody on that saucer that compares to that."

"Not even the Captain?" asked Alivia as she wiped her eyes and looked at Hickensen. "I know you love her."

Hickensen's poker face collapsed. "What do you know?" he asked with sudden anger.

"All I know is that you and the Captain are very very close. I don't know the particulars of your relationship, but I know there is something."

"Does the whole ship know?"

"No," said Alivia. "Only those people that know you and Capt. Lander well. Frank knew, and I'm pretty sure Selina suspects."

This time it was Hickensen's turn to swear. He stood up and walked around the transporter room. Alivia watched him pace. The man was holding it together, but just barely. Finally, he turned to Alivia. "I do love her, more than anyone in my life, except perhaps my parents. You're right, not knowing is terrible. But it is also what is keeping me hopeful." Hickensen sat down again. "Lindsey choose to remain on that saucer. She would never abandon her crew, not without a fight. She did this once before, on the first _Orion_ ; sacrificing herself to save her crew. And that gives me hope."

"How?"

"Because she wasn't trapped or caught, but willingly entered the fray. She will be able to plan and scheme. She may be willing to risk her life, but she won't throw away it away needlessly. She will fight to preserve her life for as long as she can. And that is reason for you to hope as well. Lindsey and Frank are cut from the same cloth. Both consider the crew their primary responsibility; both are smart and inventive; and both have gotten themselves out of tight situations before." Hickensen put his arm on Alivia's shoulder. "We need to hold on to our hope at least long enough for us to do something about it. Adm. Janeway has already promised to attempt a rescue if it doesn't hinder our primary objective."

"You're right," said Alivia as she stood up. "I need to envision Frank alive and well. And I need to do what I can to help." She looked down at Hickensen. "That includes doing my job."

Hickensen smiled as he stood. "I am glad to hear that. But not in your current state. Otherwise it may be the _Orion_ that is damage in your next slip, not just your foot. Don't report back to Engineering for another eight hours. I expect you to get some sleep, and I will make sure you do. I may even send a nurse with a tranquilizer."

"That won't be necessary, Commander. I am heading to my quarters now." Alivia walked towards the transporter room door but stopped and turned. "Thank you, Commander, thank you."

Alivia left the transporter room and walked to her temporary quarters. Once she arrived, she laid down on her bed roll. For a moment she stared at the ceiling. Then she closed her eyes and imagined Frank; cornered, fighting, but alive. Before she knew it, sleep had found her.

* * *

Ta'Prim followed behind Capt. Lander. Behind her was Lt. Cmdr. Grant. She was aware that his weapon was pointed at her as much as it was pointed at anyone else.

Capt. Lander led the group safely passed the Borg patrols, through the Jefferies tubes, and into sick bay; where 'Ensign' Ta'Prim was introduced to the rest of the survivors as a crewman of the _Hercules_ , who was on the _Orion_ at the time of the attack. Most of them bought the explanation. The Romulan woman looked upon Ta'Prim suspiciously, but that might have been an emotional reaction to seeing a Vulcan cousin.

Ta'Prim underwent the nanoprobe infusion. After which Ta'Prim worked alongside Ens. Annika Hansen on their plans. Capt. Lander informed the Borg woman that Ta'Prim did not have the appropriate clearance to work directly with the Federation's data on the Borg, thus inhibiting Ta'Prim's access to the main computer.

What Capt. Lander didn't know is that Ta'Prim already had access to the data. She had broken through the computer's lock down twenty-six minutes and forty-three seconds prior to Lander finding her. And with that data she had already formed a plan of her own; a plan to eradicate the Borg forever.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 _Flag Officer's log; stardate 58086.9: After hours of tactical discussions with the Romulans and Remans, we finally have a unified plan of assault. I only hope that all three factions with be able to stick to the plan._

Janeway rubbed her temple a bit and reached for her coffee thermos. Cmdr. Hickensen reached out and stopped her. "Careful, Commander, it is not wise to get between me and my coffee."

Hickensen withdrew his hand. "Sorry, Admiral. But I do think that sleep will be more beneficial for you than caffeine."

"After all those meetings, I would have to agree with you," said Janeway. "I have seen my fair share of combat, but I am no war strategist. I have to admit that Cmdr. Donatra and Col. Xiomek have me beat in that department. They and their captains went through my battle plan with a fine-toothed comb. It was exhausting work."

"Did you agree on a leave time?"

"All three fleets will depart at 0300 hours."

"That gives you four hours to sleep."

Janeway looked up at Hickensen. "You are insistent, aren't you, Commander?"

"You would not be the first captain I've told to get some sleep. Lin…Capt. Lander can be incredibly stubborn. If she could carry the entire ship on her back, she would do it."

"I know," said Janeway. "It's one of the reasons I put her in charge of the _Orion_. Very well, Commander. You win. I will get some sleep. Dismissed."

* * *

"Tell me again. How do we regain communications with the fleet?" Despite not having an engineer left on the team, Lindsey was pleased with her officers.

It was Seven who answered. "The best place to access communication is from the bridge."

"We should not have too much trouble reaching it with our nanoprobe disguises," said Frank.

"What about the drones on the bridge?" asked Chef.

"There is sure to be a drone or two," said Seven. "But more is unlikely."

"It's the bridge; the most important place on the ship," said Ens. Rikka.

"You forget, a Borg ship has no bridge. The Collective controls the ship like it controls its drones," said Ta'Sem. "Am I right?"

"More or less," said Seven. "The Borg will have most likely centralized bridge control into the Collective; which will prove difficult as we attempt to access communications."

"But can you do it?" asked Lindsey.

"I believe I can," said Seven.

"Good, then this is what we must do," said Lindsey. Then she leaned forward and looked at her team: a Borg woman, a Bajoran scientist, two human fighters, a Romulan soldier, and a Vulcan spy. "Now tell what we can do."

Ta'Prim and Seven both raised their eyebrows. Ta'Sem looked eager. Frank and Chef both nodded understandingly. It was Rikka that didn't get it. "What do you mean, Captain?"

"Ensign, we are right next an extremely dangerous Borg cube, and it has no idea that we are here." Lindsey stood for emphasis and spoke to the whole room. "Soon a Romulan-Reman-Starfleet attack force will be arriving to fight it. How can we use our unique position to turn the tide of that battle in our favor?"

"If we were on the bridge, perhaps we could access the _Orion's_ weapons," suggested Frank.

"That would be difficult," said Seven. "It would also not go unnoticed. We would be revealed to the Borg."

"We can't stay invisible forever," said Lindsey. "At some point we will have to drop our cloak and fight."

"I appreciate the analogy, Captain," said the Romulan Ta'Sem.

"However," continued Lindsey. "I don't think the _Orion's_ weapons will make much difference in the fight. I was thinking of something more impactful."

"I have a suggestion," said Seven. Lindsey gave her a wave of permission. "It's an idea I have been thinking about for some time. Before they were assimilated, my parents studied the Borg for years. They were able to slip on board a cube undetected and observe them. I have often thought how things would have been different if they would have attacked rather than merely observed."

"That's why you developed this disguising technology," said Ta'Sem. "To accomplish what you parents did not."

"I did not know what type of mission my technology would be used for," answered Seven. "But the thought had crossed my mind."

"What are you proposing now?" asked Lindsey.

"That we plan a techno-virus into the Borg. I have developed one that will disrupt the links between individual drones and the Collective. But it has to be downloaded into the cube's vinculum."

"The what?" asked Rikka.

"The Borg vinculum. It is the processing device at the core of every Borg vessel. It connects the drones to the Collective. If it were infected the drones would lose contact with the Collective and with each other."

"They would lose their ability to coordinate in a fight," said Frank. Lindsey smiled. Frank always thought as tactician.

"They would also lose their ability to adapt, making our weapons far more effective," added Seven.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," inserted Chef. "But did you say this vinculum is on board the Borg cube?"

"Yes," answered Seven. "I would have to board the Cube, get to the vinculum, and insert the virus."

"You?" asked Ta'Sem. "Why you?"

"I am the only one here with sufficient knowledge on the Borg. It would be far more efficient and more likely to succeed if I do it myself. I am not sure I could talk anyone else through the process."

"Would this virus effect the whole Collective?" asked Ta'Prim. Lindsey looked over at the Vulcan woman. She had agreed with Agent Ta'Prim on idea of wiping out the whole Collective, but Lindsey wasn't sure that she really would want to do it.

"No," said Seven. "There have been several attempts to do so in recent years. Species 6339 successfully infected a Borg vinculum as did the Brunali. The Collective has undoubtedly discovered their weakness and adapted. The possibility of my virus traveling beyond this cube is infinitesimal."

"Is it at all possible to modify the virus to be carried beyond this cube?" asked Ta'Prim.

Seven looked at the Vulcan woman, and Lindsey thought she saw some wounded pride in Seven's face. "There is no reasonable possibility of that. If there were, I would have been working on it."

"How can you be sure?" asked Ta'Prim.

"I am Borg," said Seven defensively. "I know the Collective better than anyone. It is highly unlikely that this virus or any virus would spread to another Borg vessel." When Ta'Prim conceded the argument, Seven continued. "This virus is also unlikely to be permanent. The Collective may very well be able to adapt to the virus and take back control of its vinculum and its drones."

"So, we will have to time it right when the fleet arrives for maximum effect," said Frank.

"Precisely," agreed Seven.

"You said the Borg drones would be severed from the Collective," said Rikka suddenly filled with energy. "Is there any chance that we could liberate any; rescue them?"

"That would require great energies on our part," said Seven. "We would have to disable some of their Borg implants before the Collective could reestablish contact. In addition, most drones have grown accustomed to the Collective and would struggle to live without it." Seven dropped her head a bit. "I speak from personal experience."

"What about the recently assimilated? Could we save them?" Rikka was on her feet. Lindsey realized that a crewmember who was close to Rikka must have been assimilated.

Seven considered the Ensign's question. "The more recent the assimilation, the easier it would be for a drone to embrace individuality again. But we would have to act quickly to disable their neural transceivers before the Collective could reestablish their link. It would be difficult given our priories."

Rikka was about to argue further when Frank reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "If there is anything we can do to rescue Nolean we will do it, Ensign."

Lindsey felt her stomach turn as she recognized the name. She could hardly imagine the pain the young woman was experiencing. Rikka Samae had lost her sister to the Borg. "I agree. If we are able to save any of our assimilated crew we should try. But first we must focus on our current objectives."

"Which brings me back to my original question," said Chef. "How do you plan on getting on board the Borg cube?"

"Transporters are offline," reported Ta'Sem. "I already tried."

"Even if we could fix them, the Borg would notice a transporter signal," added Ta'Prim. "If they are indeed hunting us, then I believe such use of the ship's transporters would not be considered irrelevant."

"I would not be using the _Orion's_ transporters. I will use the Borg cube's."

"How?" asked Lindsey.

"I will have to access the neural transceiver of a drone. There I can find the frequency on which this cube communicates. I can then use that frequency to call the cube and have it transport me on board."

"Will a drone really allow you to do that?" asked Ta'Sem.

"It will be unlikely to resist if I do it while it is regenerating."

"Catch them sleeping. Works for me," replied Ta'Sem. Lindsey shuttered a bit at the Romulan's cold words. But somehow Lindsey thought it was just a façade the woman was putting on.

"How will you get back?" asked Chef. Lindsey had the same question, and she could tell that Frank wanted to ask it as well.

Seven looked a bit uncomfortable. "I have not yet figured that out. Once I install the virus, the Borg will lose cohesion and will likely not be able to transport me back."

"At that point we could just use the _Orion's_ transporters, or another ship in the fleet," suggested Frank.

"The difficulty is that my life signature will appear as Borg," said Seven. "It will not be possible to distinguish me from any other drone."

"We could give you an emergency transporter armband," said Ens. Rikka. "We use them to maintain transporter locks in difficult environments. Any Starfleet transporter should be able to lock on to them. If you keep them inactive until you have accomplished your objective, the Borg should not be able to locate the foreign technology."

"An excellent idea," replied Seven. "However, there is no guarantee they will be able to transmit inside a Borg cube. I will have to go deep into the cube in order to find the vinculum."

"In the chaos of the disconnected drones, it should be easy to return to a less shielded location," said Chef.

"On the contrary," said Seven. "When the drones are disconnected from the Collective, they will begin to act as individuals, and will be forced to rely their own senses."

"They will be able to see you with their own eyes and recognize that you are not a drone," finished Frank.

"Correct," agreed Seven.

"It sounds to me that it would be extremely dangerous for you on the cube?" said Lindsey.

"Yes, Commander. But I am willing to take the risk."

"Not alone, you won't," replied Lindsey. "You will be taking someone with combat experience with you."

"That would be me, I suppose," said Frank.

"No, Frank, I need you here," said Lindsey. She turned to Chef. "Richard, you are no longer a Starfleet officer, so I can't order you over there, but…"

"I'll do it," said Chef bluntly.

"Okay," replied Lindsey gratefully. "These plans are good, but they could be better. Let's get to work."

* * *

Henry watched as Adm. Janeway took her seat on the bridge. The viewscreen displayed the fleet, but in two of its corners was displayed Cmdr. Donatra and Col. Xiomek, both of whom were on the bridge of their flagships.

"Adm. Janeway, the Romulan fleet is in formation. The course is laid in, and we are ready for warp," said Donatra.

"The Reman fleet is also ready, Admiral," added Xiomek.

"The Federation force is ready. We are beginning the countdown," said Janeway. A countdown appeared on the top center of the viewscreen. Janeway asked that her communication be muted and turned to Henry. "Commander, is the _Orion_ ready?"

"The phaser modifications are nearly complete. All other systems are fully functioning. Your flagship is ready and at your command, Admiral."

"Good," said Janeway.

"Admiral, the _Lakota_ , the _Hercules_ , the _Resistant_ , and the _Courageous_ all report that they are ready for battle," reported Thrim from the tactical station.

"Excellent," stated Janeway. The countdown passed twenty seconds. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to battle. Commander, command of the bridge is yours."

"Thank you, Admiral," said Henry. "Helm, go to warp 7 on my mark." Henry raised his hand. The countdown reached ticked off the final five seconds. Henry pointed forward and said, "Engage."

* * *

It was quiet in sick bay. Ta'Sem looked up from her work on the disruptors. Capt. Lander and the Vulcan woman were quietly working on the phasers. The rest of the team had split up to work on other objectives.

Ta'Sem returned her eyes to the disruptor in her hand, but she kept her ears alert. Ta'Sem was suspicious of the suddenly appearing Vulcan. And she could tell that neither the Captain nor Cmdr. Grant trusted the woman. There was more to her story than what was told. Ta'Sem had memorized the entire crew of the _Orion_ and most of the significant members of the other two ships, but she did not recall an Ens. Ta'Prim.

Cmdr. Grant and Richard entered sick bay, each with a sack over their shoulders. "We come bearing gifts."

"There's an expression on Romulus," said Ta'Sem as she rose from her work. "Never trust humans bearing gifts."

"I think you will enjoy this," said Grant as he unloaded a number of Romulan disruptor pistols and rifles. Richard likewise revealed his package of Federation phasers.

Ta'Sem picked up one of the rifles and shouldered it. "Very nice." She was pleased to see none of the Starfleet officers became nervous. She had earned their trust. "It will take some time to modify these to make them effective against the Borg."

"Then you better get to work," said Lander. She turned to Richard. "Chef, why don't you check on Hansen and Rikka. If they are finished, then they should begin working on finding a way to transport you and Hansen to the cube."

Ta'Sem felt a shudder in her spine. She wasn't sure why. It wasn't like she was the one going on the dangerous mission to the Borg vessel. Her eyes fell on Richard, who caught her stare. Ta'Sem spoke immediately to cover up her concern for Richard. "If our weapons designer is not needed, perhaps you can send her here. We could use her help with these disruptors."

Lander gave a confused look towards Richard, who replied. "She means Ens. Rikka."

"Oh, I see," said Lander, still confused. "That would be fine. Richard, go with Hansen and send Rikka to us. Frank, may I have a word with you?"

As Richard left the room, and Lander and Grant were talking, Ta'Sem took her opportunity. She continued to work on the disruptors but kept her eyes fixed on Ta'Prim, until the Vulcan noticed. "Can I help you, Sub-Lieutenant?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Ta'Sem in a kind voice. "It is just that I have never met a Vulcan before. I feel that this is a rare opportunity. We are, after all, related from afar."

"Indeed," said Ta'Prim. "Prior to this mission, I have never met a Romulan."

"Well, Ensign, it is my pleasure to meet you," said Ta'Sem still using a kind voice.

"And I would find our meeting to be an intriguing event, if there were not more pressing matters to which we should attend."

"Of course," replied Ta'Sem. "Remind me again, what you job is on the _Hercules_?"

"I work in the science lab."

"What is your specialty?"

"I do not see how that is relevant."

"We need to know each other's strengths," said Ta'Sem. "Ens. Rikka Samae, it turns out, has a knack for biochemistry. She made a firebomb out of Benizite alcohol."

"I am a biologist," said Ta'Prim. "I was trying to learn all I could about Borg anatomy."

"Really. Why were you on the _Orion_?"

"I was trying to access Ens. Hansen's research on the Borg. I did not realize that it was considered classified material."

"That's a good story," said Ta'Sem. Ta'Prim didn't respond. Apparently, the Vulcan woman wasn't going to be baited. There was no logical reason to respond, Ta'Sem supposed. "The thing of it is, I don't believe it. And neither does Capt. Lander nor Cmdr. Grant."

"I am afraid you have me at a loss, Sub-Lieutenant. I do not know to what you are referring."

"You expect me to believe that you are a Starfleet ensign who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time?"

Ta'Prim gave Ta'Sem a long calculating look. "And you expect me to believe that you are simply a member of the Romulan military?"

Ta'Sem resisted a smile. Vulcans were capable of a bit of spy talk. But before the conversation could continue, Cmdr. Grant came up to Ta'Prim and began to work with her on the phasers. Ta'Sem returned to her work on the disruptors but kept her eye on Ta'Prim.

* * *

Chef arrived at the location where Rikka and Hansen were supposed to be. He climbed in the Jefferies tube, which was quite uncomfortable for a man his size. He called out. "Ens. Rikka, Ens. Hansen, are you finished?"

"Not yet," said Ens. Rikka from a deck down. Chef peered down a vertical shaft and saw her wiggling on her back down the Jefferies tube. "Okay, I'm in position!" she shouted.

"Cut the Borg circuitry on my mark," came a voice from further down the tube. "Now."

Chef climbed down just in time to see Rikka cut the wires protruding from the greenish glowing Borg thing. "Got it!"

"The rerouting plate, now!"

Rikka obeyed immediately and jabbed a circuit plate next to the Borg tech. The Borg wiring reached out and connected to the plate. "Wow, that is creepy," said Chef.

"Autonomous regeneration sequencers," said Rikka. "Or that's what Hansen calls them. "

Ens. Annika Hansen climbed down to join them. "They function to counteract resistance."

"But we're not resisting," said Samae. "We are rerouting. We give them something else to connect to. This plate merely sends the wiring back to the Borg device, while maintaining a complete circuit. We are hoping the Borg will not notice."

"Retaking the ship bit by bit," added Chef.

"This will only work for systems the Borg consider irrelevant," said Hansen as she leaned over Rikka's work. "We will have to wait until I plant my virus before we attempt to take back major systems." Hansen pulled back from the Borg device. "This should work. We show have access to the ship's sensors."

"Ship's sensors?" asked Chef. "I didn't think we needed those."

"The Captain wants to see what is out there," said Hansen. "And I thought it would be good for Ens. Rikka practice on some Borg tech. Once I am on the cube, it will be up to her to free the _Orion's_ systems from the Borg."

"Oh, the joy," said Rikka sarcastically. "I have enough of this crawling around and digging through Borg tech," said Rikka as the trio came out of the tube. "This is engineers' work."

"We do not have any engineers," responded Hansen.

"I've noticed," replied Rikka.

"So, we have access to external sensors?" asked Chef.

"That is yet to be seen," said Hansen. "We must check our work back at sick bay. Have you accomplished your task?"

"Grant and I have acquired additional weapons. Ta'Sem, Ta'Prim, and Grant are working adapting them to the Borg."

"I can help with that," said Hansen.

"No," replied Richard. "The Captain wants you to begin your work on getting to the Borg cube. Ens. Rikka is to go back to sick bay, check the sensors and help Ta'Sem with the disruptors."

"Great, more engineering work," said Samae. "I know my way back to sick bay. Good luck."

"I am Borg. Luck is irrelevant," responded Hansen. Chef saw an ever so slight smile on her face. The dry and straight forward woman did have a sense of humor after all.

Rikka left for sick bay, while Hansen led Chef down the corridors. They eventually ended up outside a cargo bay. "Why are we here?"

"The Borg will have likely set up their regeneration alcoves here," answered Hansen. "The cargo bay has plenty of room and access to the ship's power grid."

The doors slide open to reveal a green lit room with row upon row of Borg technology. Chef grunted, "They ejected the cargo."

"It was all irrelevant," said Hansen.

"Irrelevant to them," said Chef with a disgusted voice.

"Is there something you will miss?"

"Yeah. I kept a fair amount of my food stuffs in here, as well as a few bottles of brandy that I was saving for a special occasion." Chef looked at the drones standing in their alcoves. "Do you miss it, regeneration I mean?"

Hansen nodded, "It is an efficient means of renewing one's energy. In fact, my remaining Borg implants still require regeneration."

Chef was suddenly concerned. "How long can you go without regenerating?"

"I can go for days with just normal human sleep, but eventually my Borg implants will lose their efficiency. I have a modified alcove in my quarters, but dare not return to it, as the Borg will have undoubtfully have found it. I am fine for now."

"You will let me or the Captain know if your performance suffers, right?"

"Yes, I will."

Satisfied, Chef looked down the row of Borg drones regenerating. "Which one?"

Hansen walked passed a few drones then stopped in front of one. "This one. He has several hours left in his cycle. We should be able to do our work without disturbing him."

* * *

"Admiral, we have located the Borg cube at maximum sensor range," reported Lt. Cmdr. Thrim.

"Send the coordinates to navigation. Helm, lay in an intercept course," ordered Henry.

"Alert the fleet, and send our information to Donatra and Xiomek," added Adm. Janeway. "Make sure all ships in the attack force are battle ready."

"Hickensen to O'Hara, are the phaser modifications complete?"

"Phasers are ready as requested," replied O'Hara's voice over combadge.

"This Cmdr. Hickensen to all crew," said Henry in a ship wide broadcast. "The Borg cube has been located. Red alert; all hands to battle stations."

* * *

"Welcome back, Ensign. We have some weapon designing to work on," said Ta'Sem as Samae returned to sick bay.

"I'll be right with you, Sub-Lieutenant," Rikka was surprisingly getting use to the nickname the Romulan woman had given her. "But first I want to check the sensors."

"You have access to the external sensors?" asked the Captain.

"We are about to find out, Captain," said Samae as she stood in front of the console. "Okay, here we go; full access to the _Orion's_ sensors."

"What are we looking at," asked Ta'Sem as she and the Captain leaned over Samae's shoulders. Grant and Ta'Prim stood nearby listening intently.

"Well, here's the Borg cube," said Samae as a live image of the cube appeared. "There is nothing else in visible range." The image of the cube suddenly extended a green energy beam on the _Orion_. The _Orion_ shook. "That is a tractor beam."

The _Orion_ shook again then settled into a steady motion. "We're moving," said the Captain. "Why are we moving?"

"It is something we did?" asked Grant, stepping forward so he could see. "Can they tell that we are accessing the sensors?"

"Doubtful," said the Captain. "Ensign, focus the sensors forward in the direction we are traveling. Is there anything out there?"

"Focusing sensors," Samae looked at the screen. "Captain, there is something out there. A lot of something; starships. They're still out of visual range, but more details are coming."

"Those look like Romulan ships," said Ta'Sem. "This is probably the combined fleets of Donatra and the Remans."

"How fast are we traveling?" asked Grant.

"We are at warp 9.5," said Samae.

"Time to intercept!" demanded the Captain.

"Umm," Samae looked up in alarm. "Three hours."

"Three hours!" said the Captain. "We need to move faster. We need to get Seven on that cube, and we need to get to the bridge."

"Ready when you are, Captain," said Samae. She looked up from the console. She saw the Captain and Ta'Sem right next to her and Grant a few steps away. "Where's Ens. Ta'Prim?"

"Frank!" shouted the Captain.

"On it!"

Both of them ran out of the room. Ta'Sem said something in the Romulan language that sounded coarse and violent. Samae felt lost. "What's happening?"

* * *

Despite her reassurances to Matthews, Seven could feel the stress that lack of regeneration was having on her implants. Her ability to multitask was weakening, but if she focused only on the task at hand, then she could still function. And that task was figuring out the transmission frequency between the cube and the sleeping drone that she was working on.

It was fortunate that Matthews was with her. Borg drones came in and out of the cargo hold frequently. Seven did not have the luxury to watch it happen. But every time the cargo hold door opened, Matthews would calmly glance back and analyze the threat. Seven could tell that he was a veteran of combat, and that in a dangerous situation he had an ability to set aside all other concerns. Seven found Matthews' presence and alertness calming; allowing her to focus on her work.

Seven disassembled part of the implants on the drone's back. Then she exposed the neural transceiver fixed to its spine. A minute of scanning with a triquarter and Seven had what she came for.

"You got it?" asked Matthews.

"Yes. I just need a few minutes to reassemble this drone's implants. It is best not to leave any sign of our work."

"Sounds good," replied Matthews.

Seven had just begun when she heard the door open again. She ignored it, until Matthews stood up and said, "Ens. Ta'Prim, what are you…"

Matthews made a sudden movement then fell like dead weight on the floor. Seven turned around and saw a Vulcan woman holding a phaser. The orange beam came out of the weapon and hit Seven in the chest, and her vision went black.

* * *

Lindsey was running down the corridors at a full sprint. She was aware that she was moving faster than any drone would and that her actions might be noticeable by the Collective. But she feared that whatever Ta'Prim might be doing might be more noticeable. What if the misguided Section 31 agent blew their cover?

Frank was only a few steps behind Lindsey. "Captain, where are we going?"

"Cargo hold. That's where I last saw Chef and Seven on the sensors. I would wager that is where Ta'Prim is." Lindsey found the cargo hold's double doors and ran through. Once inside she saw the limp bodies of Seven of Nine and Chef. There working on a regenerating Borg drone was Ta'Prim. "Ta'Prim, stop!"

Ta'Prim looked back at Lindsey then quickly tried to finish what she was doing. Lindsey saw her transferring something from a triquarter into the drone. Unable to stop her Lindsey switch her phaser to kill and fired at the Borg drone. The particle beam burned a hole in the drone's chest, and it fell forward, dead.

"Why did you do that?" said Ta'Prim in a noticeably restrained voice.

"Drop the triquarter, now!" commanded Lindsey. Frank circled to Lindsey's left to get a clearer shot as Ta'Prim dropped her triquarter. "What were you doing?"

"I was killing the Borg; all of them. Inserting a techovirus that would spread throughout the Collective. You told me yourself that you were not objecting to such action."

"What did you do to them?" Lindsey pointed to Seven and Chef.

"They are stunned, nothing more."

"Step away from them," said Lindsey. Ta'Prim complied. "Computer, activate the EMH."

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," asked the EMH as he arrived.

"Two stunned crewman," reported Lindsey. "I want to know their status. Frank, get the EMH a med kit."

Frank did as ordered, while the EMH took the pulse of the two stunned crewmen. Once he did a scan with a medical triquarter he pronounced, "They are fine. It will be a while before they awaken."

"Can you revive them now?"

"Yes, I could."

"Then do it. Get them back to sick bay. I need them at full compacity. Even if you have to give them a boast of cordrazine. I need them fully functional."

"That is not advisable," objected the EMH.

"Doctor, hundreds or thousands of lives are in the balance. Their mission is critical."

"Very well." The EMH used a hypospray on Chef, then on Seven. Both of them awoke but seemed groggy.

"Doctor, take Hansen back to sick bay. Frank, help Chef."

"What about Ta'Prim?" asked Frank.

"I will deal with her." Frank and the EMH helped the two recovering crewmen out of the cargo hold. Lindsey, still aiming the phaser at Ta'Prim, gave her orders. "Move: out of the cargo hold and to the science lab." Ta'Prim obeyed and walked in front of Lindsey. When they arrived, Lindsey pointed to a chair, "Sit!"

Ta'Prim obeyed. "You should not have stopped me. The triquarter is still in the cargo hold. We can still go back and finish the job."

"What job? What were you doing? And why could you not tell me about it?"

"Despite what you told me, I did not believe that you would approve a course of action that would wipe out the entire Collective," said Ta'Prim.

"What was on that triquarter?"

"A technovirus that would kill every Borg drone connected to the Collective."

"Where did you get it?"

"Section 31 designed it," answered Ta'Prim. "It is a better developed version of what the _Enterprise_ crew originally made. That coupled with some information on Borg neutral transceivers I acquired from Hansen's database, allowed me to insert it into the Collective from a single drone."

"You heard Hansen. She said that the Borg have adapted to such attacks."

"That is her opinion."

"Yes, but it's a good opinion!" said Lindsey. "Arguably there is no greater expert on the Borg in the entire Federation than Ens. Annika Hansen. Who in Section 31 has greater knowledge? Where can you go for a greater or even equal opinion?"

"There is no one," replied Ta'Prim. "But we can only speculate about the Borg, and speculation is not certain."

"When all we can do is speculate, is it not logical to adhere to the opinion of the greatest expert?"

"Yes, that is logical. But the potential benefit of my actions was enough to make it the logical choice," countered Ta'Prim.

"But the consequences negate the potential benefit," argued Lindsey. It was hard not to become irritated. But she had to control her emotions if she was going to argue logic with a Vulcan. "If your virus failed, the Collective would notice. The Collective would be on the defensive, and we would lose the opportunity to disable this cube."

"The destruction of the whole Collective must be our ultimate goal," said Ta'Prim. Lindsey thought she could see a hint of annoyance in the Vulcan.

"Perhaps," countered Lindsey. "But it is not logical to pursue an ultimate yet unreachable goal at the expense of a nearer and obtainable goal."

"It had to attempted," answered Ta'Prim.

Lindsey lost her patience. "Ta'Prim! This is not like you! It's not logical! You…you… you gambled!" Lindsey waved her arms in frustration. "We have a solid plan, and you nearly threw it away from something you knew would likely not work. Look at me and tell me that you were acting logically." Ta'Prim looked down and was silent. "Look at me, Ta'Prim! Answer me! What has come over you? What has caused you to abandon logic?"

"I hated them!" shouted Ta'Prim, coming to her feet in a sudden outburst of rage. Lindsey took three steps back as she saw the rage in her eyes. Lindsey would be lying if she ever told someone that she wasn't terrified in that moment. Ta'Prim's entire body shook with emotion.

"Sit down, Ta'Prim," said Lindsey in her calmest voice. She needed to calm the enraged Vulcan. "Please sit down." Ta'Prim was shaking as she lowered herself into her seat. "Stay there a moment." Lindsey ducked into the science officer's lab and came out with a lamp. She set it on a low table.

"What is this?!" asked Ta'Prim.

"This is my science officer, Lt. T'Sel's, meditation lamp. I am sure she will not mind us borrowing it."

"What are you doing?"

Lindsey forced herself to relax. Then she lit the lamp. "Fire: one of nature's most destructive forces, yet here it is, a tool to be tamed and used."

"You, a human, are going to lead me in a Vulcan meditation!" snapped Ta'Prim.

"Shut up and look at the flame, Ta'Prim." said Lindsey sternly without raising her voice. Ta'Prim stared at the flame. "Breathe in, breathe out. Now, tell me: Why do you hate the Borg? What did they do to you?"

Ta'Prim took a deep breath. "My parents." Ta'Prim took another breath. "Lander, what do you know of Vulcan mating practices?"

Lindsey was taken aback by the seeming unrelated question. "I was informed when I took command of the _Orion_ that Vulcans have a strong cultural tradition of returning to Vulcan every seven years to be with their spouse. If a Vulcan crewman requests leave for those purposes, I was to grant it if at all possible."

"It is not a cultural tradition," said Ta'Prim. "It is a biology necessity. Every seven years a mature Vulcan must mate. If they do not, they begin to experience what we have come to call the 'pon farr,' loosely translated 'blood fever.' In such a state Vulcans begin to lose their ability to control their emotions. The condition may even prove fatal as it could disintegrate their mind. My father was approaching his seven year period. My mother was a science officer on _Melbourne_. She had just received permission to go on leave and be with my father."

Lindsey felt the crushing weight of sorrow as she knew where Ta'Prim was going with this story. "The _Melbourne_?"

"Yes, the _Melbourne_. My mother's leave was canceled when the _Melbourne_ was put on red alert and ordered to rendezvous with a battle fleet at Sector Wolf 359. In the subsequent battle with a Borg cube, the _Melbourne_ was destroyed, and my mother perished on the ship."

"Ta'Prim, I'm so sorry."

"If that was all, then I would not be as I am," said Ta'Prim. "My mother signed up for Starfleet. She knew the risks, and she died defending the Federation. But my father…" Ta'Prim took another deep breath. "My father was crushed. He loved my mother. His relatives and even my older brothers tried to persuade him to take another mate. It would be logical. But he refused. Instead he tried to overcome the pon farr through meditation. It can be done. Many of the _Kolinahr_ masters do it. Some are even celibate, never taking a mate. But my father never reached _Kolinahr_ ; he never had full mastery of his emotions. And with the death of my mother, he was grieved."

Anger returned to Ta'Prim's face. "He was fool! He should have listened. I was twenty-one years old, and I was living with my father on Vulcan." Ta'Prim stared at Lindsey with an intensity she had never seen before. "I wanted to stay with him and help him. I was with him as he slowly lost control. At first it was a snap of anger. Then it turned into nights of weeping. It wasn't until the day he struck me in rage that my brothers came and forced me to leave. My last memory of my father was of him in a berserk rage! He had lost his mind, his dignity, and his very self! He died five days later.

"So, you see, Lander!" Ta'Prim rose to her feet again. "The Borg have taken everything from me. They took my mother! They took my father! And now they have taken my logic! They have destroyed me!" Ta'Prim sat down suddenly and put her hands to her face. Lindsey's eyes opened wide with the realization that Ta'Prim was crying. "I shouldn't be like this. I am Vulcan. I shouldn't have these emotions. All I want to do is make them pay, to make them feel as I feel. But it is not illogical. I don't know what to do."

"I do," said Lindsey in a calm voice. "I know what you need to do, Ta'Prim." Ta'Prim removed her hands and looked at Lindsey. Lindsey would never forget the tear soak face of the weeping Vulcan woman as long as she lived. "You need to leave Section 31. They know all about you, and they are preying on your emotions, using them to achieve their goals. Staying with them will destroy you. You need to go back to Vulcan. There are people there that can help you; Vulcans who can help you retrieve your logic."

"That is logical," was all that Ta'Prim could say.

Lindsey stood up. "But, unfortunately, I cannot bring you to Vulcan now. I have to deal with the Borg here in Romulan space. And I need everyone I can get. We have less than three hours before we intercept the combined assault force of the Romulans, Remans, and Starfleet." Lindsey reached out her hand to Ta'Prim. "Can you get a hold of yourself and give me five hours of emotion-free logic? Or do I need to lock you in the brig?'

Ta'Prim wiped her eyes and accepted Lindsey's outstretched hand. She straighten her uniform and collected herself. "Yes, I can hold out for a while longer."

"Good. We have work to do, crewman."

* * *

Ta'Sem reassembled the disruptor rifle. "Another one done."

"Good," said Rikka. "And I am finished with the transporter armbands." She strapped it onto Richard Matthews. He shook his head. "Too tight?"

"No, Ensign. I'm still a little groggy from being stunned and then quickly awakened."

"As am I," said Ens. Hansen in a clearly annoyed voice.

"I merely following orders," said the holographic doctor.

"I don't blame you, Doctor," said Richard. "I'm just a little perturbed."

Ta'Sem could hardly blame him. The truth was that Ta'Sem partly blamed herself for Richard's misfortune. She knew something was off about Ta'Prim, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She was trying to keep an eye on the Vulcan, but then she became distracted, and in that moment Ta'Prim gave them all the slip.

Ta'Sem walked up to Richard. "You ready for your mission?"

"Ready as I am going to be. This transporter armband should help get us back." Richard pointed to the device strapped to his shoulder. Ta'Sem looked dubiously at the small piece of Starfleet tech. She reached down and lifted the leg on her uniform and pulled something from an ankle strap. "A concealed weapon?" asked Richard.

"No," said Ta'Sem. She held the small sculpture in front of Richard. "It's Val'Annara, the Romulan goddess of luck. I carry her around with me." Ta'Sem put the statuette into Richard's hands. "You're going to need her more I will."

Richard reluctantly accepted. "You do realize that I do not adhere to any Romulan religion."

"Please take it. I would feel better if you had it. You can give it back to me once you've returned safely."

"Okay. I'll take it," Richard slide it inside his shirt pocket. "Anything else?"

Ta'Sem and Richard were interrupted when Lander walked into sickbay with Ta'Prim trailing behind her. The change in the Vulcan woman was striking. She looked like she had been crying. Whatever Lander had said had raddled Ta'Prim. If the young unimposing human woman was capable of making a Vulcan cry, then Capt. Lander had just risen very high in Ta'Sem's respect.

"Status report!" barked Lander.

"We are still at warp, but we won't be for long," said Rikka. "In seventy minutes, we will intercept the fleet."

"I was able to get the Borg transporter frequency," said Hansen. "Before I was interrupted." The Borg woman gave an unkind look towards Ta'Prim but continued anyway. "Matthews and I can beam over to the cube as soon as we drop out of warp."

"We have reengineered enough phasers and disruptors for all of us to have one of each," reported Ta'Sem.

Good. We'll need them," said Lander. "Seven and Chef, get in position. Transport to the cube as soon as we drop out of warp. Frank, how's your tactical training?"

"Sufficient. I maintain my training, but I am nowhere near as good as Thrim or Hickensen." said Grant. "I don't know why Starfleet thinks security and operation a ship's tactical station are similar skill sets."

"You're the best we've got," said Lander.

"Captain, why do you ask about tactical training?" asked Ta'Sem.

Lander gave Ta'Sem a small but wicked smile. "I'm not going to sit still in a battle. I am retaking my ship."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 _Captain's log; stardate 58087.6: The final showdown with the Borg is beginning, and I intend on fighting to the end. If we, the remaining crew of the_ Orion's _saucer, do not survive, let it be known than the following crewman have served with honor and bravery: Lt. Cmdr. Ulysses Francis Grant, Ens. Rikka Samae, Ens. Annika Hansen, and retired Lt. Richard Matthews. Also, to be commended is Sub-Lt. Ta'Sem of the Romulan military. It is an honor to serve with such people, and an honor to be the captain of the_ Orion _. God speed to us all._

"Through here. This tube should take us to an access hatch on the starboard side of the bridge."

Sub-Lt. Ta'Sem was crawling behind Lindsey. "Have you done this before, Captain?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact," replied Lindsey. "There are times when the turbo lifts simply don't work." Lindsey reached the panel and cut it open with her phaser. She pushed the panel in and crawled onto the bridge. As she stood up, she saw two drones standing still on the bridge. The drones ignored her. Lindsey waved the others on. "Frank, take tactical. Ta'Prim, you will take operations. Ens. Rikka, you have the engineer's station, once you have purged the bridge of interfering Borg technology. Start immediately. Ta'Prim can assist you. Sub-Lieutenant, you will stand guard."

"Who is taking the helm?" asked Ta'Sem.

"I will be," said Lindsey. "I am the only one here with training and experience, however little that may be."

"Captain, I have helm training," said Ta'Sem.

"Sub-Lieutenant, this is a Federation Starship, not a Romulan warbird."

"Allow me to clarify, Captain. I have training on Starfleet helms."

Lindsey looked at the Romulan woman in surprise. A glance around the bridge told Lindsey that Frank was also concerned, Ta'Prim was intrigued, and Rikka was confused. "Ta'Sem, would you care to explain how a Romulan military sub-lieutenant has training on a Starfleet helm?"

"No, Captain, I would not."

"If you are going to work on my bridge, Ta'Sem, I need to trust you."

Ta'Sem, took a breath. "I took Starfleet helm training through the Tal Shiar."

"Are you currently a member of the Tal Shiar?" asked Lindsey.

"Yes, Captain, I am. I was assigned to accompany Sub-Cmdr. Matech on a joint mission between the Tal Shiar, Donatra's military, and Tal'Aura's government. We all needed to know if the Borg threat was real and whether Starfleet was really on our side."

Lindsey stared hard at the Romulan woman. When she could find no sign of duplicity, Lindsey said, "Take the helm, Sub-Lieutenant."

"Yes, Captain," replied the Romulan woman.

"Got it," sounded Ens. Rikka's voice, as the viewscreen came alive.

"We have bridge control?" asked Lindsey in surprise. Rikka couldn't have purged the bridge circuits already.

"I don't have helm control," reported Ta'Sem.

"And I don't have tactical," added Frank.

"No, not that," said Rikka. "The major systems are still offline, but I have the 'irrelevant' systems functioning. I thought you would like to see outside." Rikka's face changed. "Uh, Captain."

Lindsey looked at the viewscreen. "We're dropping out of warp." Lindsey could see the stars settle into their normal patterns. Then she saw dozens of Romulan warbirds of different ages and styles drop out of warp in front of them as well as five Starfleet vessels. "Battle stations!" shouted Lindsey out of habit. "I mean, continue as you were. We need this ship operational ASAP."

* * *

"We've dropped out of warp," said Chef. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," said Ens. Hansen. "Stand by for transport."

Chef felt a strange sensation as his vision was blurred with green. When everything resolved he discovered that he was looking down a long corridor with eerie green lighting. "It worked."

"Yes, we are now on the Borg cube," said Hansen. "Our disguises should still work, but I advise you keep you weapons holstered."

"Agreed. Which way?"

Hansen walked over to a display panel and entered a few commands. "We are still on the outer portions of the cube. We must go deeper, closer to the center. This way." Chef followed behind the Borg woman, all the while cautiously watching each and every Borg drone they passed.

* * *

"All ships accounted for, Admiral," reported CPO Shelton. Henry had a assigned the sensor chief to report directly to Adm. Janeway. "Romulan and Reman fleets are moving into attack formation. The _Valdore_ and Col. Xiomek's flagships are ready."

"Good," said Adm. Janeway. "Mr. Hickensen, bring the _Orion_ into position."

"Shields up. Helm, forward at half impulse. Arm phasers and quantum torpedoes," ordered Henry. It had been Col. Xiomek's idea for the flagships to launch the first blow. Henry didn't exactly agree with it, but he followed orders."

"We're being hailed," said Shelton.

"Let's oblige them," said Adm. Janeway.

"We are the Borg. We have analyzed your offensive capabilities as being unable to defeat us. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

"Let me talk to them," said Janeway. Shelton nodded, and Janeway continued, "Borg vessel. You are not welcomed in Romulan-Reman space. The Federation stands with its Romulan and Reman allies. Release our ship and return to your own space or be destroyed."

"No response, Admiral, to our message; nor to Donatra's or Xiomek's messages," said Shelton.

"I didn't expect one," said Janeway. "Commander, engage."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Henry. "Helm, full impulse. Weapons fire on my mark."

* * *

"That's the _Orion's_ stardrive," said Frank.

"Yes, it is," agreed the Captain.

Frank watched as the stardrive and two other ships dealt the first blows to the Borg cube. The damage was minimal. Frank felt his heart leap, when he saw the cube hit the _Orion's_ stardrive with a tractor beam. But seemingly out of nowhere the _Resistant_ and the _Courageous_ came to the rescue, firing their impressive array of weapons. Behind those two _Defiant_ class ships came the _Lakota_ and the _Hercules_. Both of them provided heavy fire. Then the Romulan and Reman fleets converged on the cube from all sides.

"They've done some modifications to my ship's propulsion," said Lindsey.

Frank indeed noticed that the other half of the _Orion_ was preforming some very nimble maneuvers. He also saw the damage its phasers were doing. "Looks the weapons have been upgraded as well."

Lindsey nodded but turned to Ens. Rikka Samae. "Ensign, status?"

"Not good, Captain. This is far more complicated than the external sensors. I'm having trouble. Why couldn't Ens. Hansen have stayed here?"

"Her job is much more important, Ensign," answered Lindsey. "But I need you to give me control of my bridge."

* * *

Chef followed Hansen through the confusing maze of Borg corridors. Hansen on the other hand seemed at home in the cube. He wondered just how many of these corridors Hansen had traversed when she was a drone. "Are we near?"

"Asking that question will not bring us closer, Mr. Matthews." Chef felt insulted to be treated like a child, but he pushed it away. Hansen continued, "We are nearing the center of the cube. The vinculum should be through these doors."

A set of doors opened, and Chef followed Hansen inside. There he saw a large crystal-shaped green device hanging in the center of the room. "Is that it?"

"Yes," said Hansen. "Please keep an eye on the drones. If they detect my work, I may be assaulted before I can finish."

"You can count on me." Chef pulled his phaser and disruptor pistols from his belt and stood by Hansen. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, his mind was clear. There was nothing else to think about except the enemy and his crewmate whom he was to protect.

* * *

"The cube has the _Lakota_ in a tractor beam!" shouted the ensign at operations.

"Ryan, maneuver Luis. Ser'rek, fire on my mark," Henry lifted his hand. "Fire." The _Orion_ fired phasers to destroy the tractor beam emitter and a few quantum torpedoes for additional damage.

"The _Lakota_ is free."

"Ryan, evasive maneuver MacArthur." Henry held on as the stardrive dipped, rolled, and banked away from the Borg cube. "Ryan, how is the _Orion_ handling?"

"Great, sir. I feel more like a fighter pilot than a helmsman," replied Ryan. Indeed, the _Orion's_ maneuvering was completely different than before. Between the reduction in mass from losing the saucer to O'Hara's impulse and thruster modifications, the _Orion_ was behaving like a different ship. Henry, Ryan, and Ser'rek had come up with a whole new set of maneuvers based on Federation fighters and the _Defiant_ class ships. It had been Henry's idea to name the maneuvers after the fallen offices of the old _Orion_. A first name indicated a port maneuver; a last name, a starboard maneuver.

"Keep up the good work, Ryan" encouraged Henry. Seeing that he had a break, Henry looked over to the science station. "Lt. T'Sel, have you done a sensor sweep of the _Orion_ saucer? Is there any of our people over there?"

"Yes, I have done a sensor sweep," said the Vulcan scientist. "But I have not detected any of our people. The only lifeforms I detect are Borg."

Henry's gut sank, but he forced himself to continue. Lindsey was gone. There was nothing more he could do for her, except command her ship and avenge her death.

"Romulan warbird in distress!" shouted the ensign again.

"Ryan, attack pattern Theresa. Ser'rek, weapons on my command." Henry leaned forward in his chair. This was going to be a long battle.

* * *

Seven dropped her tool on the ground. She bent down and picked it up. "Ensign, are you okay?"

"I am fine, Mr. Matthews. But this is more challenging than I expected," replied Seven.

"How so?"

"The Borg have adapted their vinculi since the last time I saw one. It is making this difficult."

"That plus your handicap."

"What handicap?"

"Miss. Hansen, you haven't regenerated in days, and only two hours ago you were shot by a phaser."

"That phaser was set to stun."

"It still affects you."

Seven indeed could feel the fatigue on her Borg implants. "You are correct. My reduced abilities are making this harder. I am having a more difficult time anticipating the Borg. But I am still the most qualified for this job."

"Undoubtfully," said Matthews. "Take a deep breath and calm your mind. Focus on one problem at a time. Work as quickly as you can, but not so quickly that you lose efficiency. 'Haste makes waste' as the saying goes."

"Efficient reasoning," agreed Seven as she returned to the console she was working on. She took a deep breath and applied the tool to the appropriate unit. One Borg defense protocol was broken, and she could proceed to the next one. One step at a time, and she would succeed.

* * *

Janeway looked out at the Borg cube. It was damaged, but not nearly enough. They had to constantly adapt the weapons as they quickly became ineffective against the Borg. The Romulans and Remans were having an even more difficult time. Two Reman warbirds and one Romulan warbird had already been destroyed. A number more had pulled out of the battle. Janeway hated to retreat, but she remembered her mistake in the last battle. At what point should she have everyone pull back and try another strategy?

"Admiral, I am concerned about the _Orion's_ strategy," said Cmdr. Hickensen, speaking right into her worry. "We are becoming too predictable. The Borg have surely recognized our methods and our new maneuverability and firepower. I fear that we cannot continue for much longer."

Janeway was about to answer him when Chief Petty Officer Shelton shouted out another distress signal. "The _Heracles_ is hit! They are caught in a tractor beam. They report their weapons are offline and shields are failing."

"We don't have a choice, Commander," said Janeway.

"Agreed," replied the young man. "Ryan attack pattern Gonzalez."

The _Orion_ dived once again in a rescue mission. But the cube suddenly released the _Heracles_ and latched on to the _Orion_ with its tractor beam. "We're stuck!" shouted the helmsman.

"Weapons are offline," said Thrim.

"Shields are dropping!" said the panicked operations ensign.

"Remodulate shields!" ordered Hickensen.

"No effect!" replied the ensign.

"Chief, signal the _Resistant_ and the _Courageous_ ," ordered Janeway. "We need assistance."

"The _Courageous_ is reporting a hull breach," stated CPO Shelton. "They have pulled out of the battle. The _Resistant_ is on the other side of the cube. The _Lakota_ is coming."

"I doubt they will get here in time," said the operations ensign. "Shields are failing."

Janeway wasn't about to give up. "Signal a Romulan or Reman ship. We are in desperate need."

* * *

"Ensign!" shouted the Captain.

Samae replied with a Bajoran curse word. She had just cut the Borg device free only to watch it regenerate itself instantly. "I need more time, Captain."

"We don't have any more time!" shouted the Captain as she pointed to the viewscreen. "That's my ship!"

Samae looked up to see the _Orion's_ stardrive caught in a Borg tractor beam. "I almost have these sequencers figured out, but there are so many of them. This isn't lab work! It's not even engineering! This is surg…" A light bulb went off in Samae's mind. "Computer, activate the EMH."

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," said the holographic doctor as he appeared on the bridge.

"Surgery," said Samae as she walked up to the doctor, grabbed his shoulder, and led him to the access panel she had been working on. "The patient has a severe parasitic infection. The parasite is inhibiting the patient's normal functions. We need to remove the parasite immediately."

"What species is the patient? And what kind of parasite are we dealing with?"

" _Galaxy_ class and Borg tech," answered Samae. "Your patient is the _Orion_ , and here are your surgical tools." Samae handed the doctor the engineering tools.

"You must be joking. I'm a doctor, not…"

"Spare me, Doctor. All I need is a set of steady and precise hands. Do you have those or not?"

"Well, yes. I will have you know my manual control was program for the most precise surgeries," said the EMH with pride.

"Good," said Samae. "Come here. I need to cut here, here, here…here…here, and here in quick session. I will cut here and here and pull the Borg device out. Ens. Ta'Prim and Lt. Cmdr. Grant, I need you two to destroy this device as soon as the Doctor and I remove it. Is everyone ready?"

Samae got three nods. "On three, Doctor. One, two, three!" The EMH worked with precision. Samae made her two cuts. Then she grabbed the Borg device and with all her strength heaved it out of the access panel. She tossed it over her head. It landed on the deck plating and was instantly hit by four particle beams from the weapons of Grant and Ta'Prim. The device exploded.

The two drones on the bridge reacted instantly. They turned, walked towards Samae, and spoke in unison. "Drone, you are defective. You must cease your activity and report to maintenance."

"Um?" Samae backed against one of the wall stations. The two drones approached.

"We cannot hear your thoughts, drone. You are defective. You must comply." A red and a green beam struck the drone on the right. Grant fired a second time, but the drone on the left shielded itself. "Danger present on the bridge. The problematic drones must be destroyed."

Grant was trying to change his weapon, but Ta'Prim grabbed the Klingon blade strapped the back of his belt and lunged forward. She buried the weapon in the drone's shoulder, rolled on the ground behind the drone, pull her arms around its neck, and snapped. The drone fell limp in front of Samae. As Samae looked up at Ta'Prim, the Vulcan woman sank to her knees, shaking with uncontrolled emotion. "Thank you," was all Samae could say.

"I still don't have helm control," shouted Ta'Sem.

"I don't have tactical control, either," added Grant.

"One second!" yelled Samae. She ran back to the access panel and patched the Starfleet circuitry back together. "How about now?"

"The helm is responding."

"I have tactical control," said Grant. "Charging phasers and arming quantum torpedoes."

"Target that tractor beam emitter with phasers!" said the Captain.

"Ready."

"Fire!"

* * *

Henry readied his hand phaser for another fight with Borg drones. Once the shields were down, and that wouldn't be long, he was sure they would beam on board. This time there would be no evacuation. If he was lucky, he would get the Admiral in an escape pod, but he would go down with the ship.

Just as Henry was ready for his final fight, three phaser beams came from somewhere off the viewscreen's left edge. They struck the tractor emitter, and suddenly the _Orion_ was free. The phaser beams were followed by a volley of quantum torpedoes.

"Not to be ungrateful, but where did that come from?" asked Adm. Janeway.

"Ensign?" asked Henry to the young man standing above him.

"It came from the _Orion_ , sir; I mean our saucer."

"What?"

"We're being hailed by the main bridge, sir," said Chief Shelton.

"On screen," ordered Janeway.

To Henry's disbelief, Lindsey appeared on the screen. "This is Capt. Lander of the _Orion_. We have taken back our bridge. But we have a ship full of Borg drones that probably have figured out we are here."

"Lindsey, how are you alive? We can't detect your life readings," said Henry.

"I know, but I can't explain now. We have a plan in motion. We need to buy more time." Lindsey began to make hand gestures, which consisted of a sequence of her closing her fist and flattening her hand.

"What kind of plan?" asked Janeway.

"One that you would like, Admiral, but I can't discuss it. The Borg maybe listening. We will try and give you additional fire support, but our weaponry is limited, and I need more security officers. I don't know how long we can hold the bridge."

"Understood," said Janeway. "We will do what we can."

"And, Henry, tell O'Hara her husband is alive. Lander out." Lindsey disappeared.

"Mr. Thrim, can we beam security personnel on to the saucer?" asked Janeway.

"No, Ma'am. They are rotating their shields. Without knowing their shield modulation, we cannot beam aboard."

"We could reconnect the stardrive and the saucer," suggested Ryan. "Security can walk right on to the saucer."

"Or the Borg could come on to the stardrive," replied Janeway. "We cannot allow that. I wish I knew what kind of plan Lander is hatching. We could help."

"If I may, Admiral," said Henry. "She told us."

"What do you mean?"

"Or more accurately, she told me. Her hand singles: fist equals short tone; flat hand…long tone: Morse code. We both memorized it at the Academy. It would be irrelevant to the Borg."

"What did she say?" asked Janeway.

"Literally '7 of 9 on cube.'"

* * *

"Cmdr. O'Hara," came Hickensen's voice over the combadge.

"I know the phaser emitter is burnt out. I have people replacing it in thirty seconds," replied Alivia.

"O'Hara," came Hickensen's voice again.

"The strain on our impulse engines is high, but I think it will hold," continued Alivia as she checked the warp core. "The warp core is still running at peak performance. All in all, the _Orion_ is doing well."

"Alivia! Stop talking!"

"What?"

"Alivia, your husband is alive," replied Hickensen's voice. "Cmdr. Grant is on the _Orion's_ main bridge."

Alivia was stunned silent for a moment. Her husband was alive! Then she thought of Henry. "And the Captain?"

"She's alive, too. But they are still in danger. I need everyone to continue to perform at their best. Just maybe we will come out of this alive."

"You can count on me, Commander," said Alivia. She returned to her work with a new determination. She was going to do everything she could to see her husband once again.

* * *

The _Lakota_ shook with the impact. "Shield status!" shouted Capt. Benteen.

"Shields are at 20%. We need to pull back, Captain."

"Negative. Route the remaining auxiliary power to the shields." Benteen knew next time her shields fell she would have to take power from another part of the ship. The _Lakota_ was a fine ship, refitted for combat against the Dominion, but it was also an old ship, and she was showing her age.

Benteen had been overjoyed when she had heard Capt. Lander's voice. Benteen was Lander's supervisor, and Lindsey had become a good friend. But Benteen also knew that the addition of the _Orion's_ saucer would make little difference in the battle. They desperately needed something to go their way.

"A Romulan warbird has just lost propulsion!" shouted a bridge officer. "The cube is pounding it."

"Use the tractor beam. Pull it to safety," ordered Benteen. The _Lakota_ grabbed the warbird with its tractor beam and began to tow it away from the cube. The cube in turn fired upon the _Lakota_.

"We're taking hits," said Benteen's first officer. "That warbird is like dragging an anchor. We can't take them with us."

"The tractor beam is losing power," reported Lt. Vladimir Kustov, the engineer Benteen had taken from the _Orion._

"Boost power to the tractor beam and impulse engines."

"There is no power to spare, Captain," replied Lt. Kustov.

A rapid-fire stream of quantum torpedoes hit the Borg cube. Benteen could see a _Defiant_ class ship come from above them. The Borg cube focused on the greater threat as the _Lakota_ retreated with the warbird in tow. Benteen opened a channel to their rescuer. "Thank you, _Resistant_."

"You are welcome, _Lakota_ ," replied Capt. Shelby's voice.

"We are safely out of the cube's range," said Benteen's first officer.

"Good. Release our Romulan friends and prepare for another assault," ordered Benteen.

"Are you sure that is a good idea, Captain?" asked her first officer.

"No, Commander, I am not; but it is what we are going to do," said Benteen. She looked out the viewscreen at the battle. They indeed needed something to go their way.

* * *

Lindsey fidgeted in her chair. The battle was raging. The _Lakota_ had barely escaped destruction, the _Courageous_ was out of the battle, the _Orion's_ stardrive was no longer surprising the Borg, and the _Resistant_ and the _Hercules_ were not all that effective. The Romulan and Reman ships were not much better. To top it all off, the _Orion's_ saucer wasn't able to do much damage. There was little that Lindsey could do in this battle.

"Captain, we're out of torpedoes," reported Frank.

"What do you mean 'we're out'?"

"I emptied the tubes. With the Borg tech messing with our systems and such a small crew, there is no way to reload them."

"Continue firing with phasers."

"Yes, Captain. But I am not able to adjust their frequencies very quickly. I am not that good at this."

"Understood, Commander. But I need your best."

"Captain, we have another problem," stated Ens. Rikka. Lindsey turned towards the scientist. "The Borg drones are attempting to access the bridge. I disabled the turbo lift, but I don't think that will hold them."

Lindsey looked back at the battle, specifically at the cube. "Seven, if you are going to do anything, you need to do it now."

* * *

Chef watched a Borg drone walked right past him. Like the others, it took no notice of him. But Chef knew that could change at any second.

"Mr. Matthews," Chef turned and faced Ens. Hansen. "I have accessed the vinculum, and have tried three times to subtly plant my techovirus, and I have failed three times."

"You can't download the virus?"

"I said that I cannot do it subtly. I think the time has come to 'throw caution to the wind.'"

"Okay, why are you telling me this?"

"Once I insert the virus, there will be sometime before it can take full effect. The Collective will become aware of it."

"Then what?"

"Worse case: the Borg adapt to it, and the virus is ineffective," stated Seven of Nine matter-of-factly. "Best case: this cube and all its drones are severed from the Collective, but not before it finds out and is able to issue final orders."

"Meaning every drone on this cube will know that we are here," added Chef.

"Precisely. You should go now. I will remain with the vinculum. They will come after me, and you will be free to escape."

"Absolutely not!" replied Chef. "My job is to protect you."

"I outrank you," said Seven. "I order you to leave. You will comply."

"I'm a civilian. You cannot order me. If it is a matter of orders, then my orders come from the Captain. Besides, I retired as a lieutenant senior grade. It is I who outrank you, Ensign. I am staying here. We are leaving together. And that is final."

Seven sighed. "Stubbornness. A most annoying human quality. Very well. Watch the drones."

Chef turned his back to Seven and watched the drones. After a few seconds, Chef spotted one drone walking from Chef's left to his right. The drone came to a sudden stop. Chef side stepped away from the vinculum as the drone turned directly towards Seven. "Defective drone, you will cease your activity. You will comply."

Seven was still doing something to the vinculum as the drone approached. The drone got three feet from Seven, when Chef grabbed it from behind and disabled it. He dropped the limp drone to the deck plating. "The cat's out of the bag. They know we're here."

"I am finished. I estimate that the virus will take full effect in the next forty seconds."

"Then let's put as much distance between us and that vinculum."

"This way." Seven led Chef out of the vinculum chamber, and they both started running.

* * *

Two of Ten felt a change in its mind. The voices had become erratic. Just before they completely disappeared it heard the voice of its queen. "Kill Starfleet!" Then everything was silent.

Two of Ten stopped. "The voices, they are gone. We cannot hear the Collective."

Six of Ten also stated, "We also cannot hear the others."

"Irrelevant!" stated One of Ten. "The Collective will reestablish the link. But we must kill Starfleet. Those are our orders."

Two of Ten complied and followed One of Ten. But the order 'kill Starfleet,' bothered Two of Ten for some reason. Two of Ten looked at its surroundings. It knew these corridors. They were important to her. "This is the _Orion_."

"This ship has been assimilated. It is Borg. Its designation is irrelevant," stated One of Ten.

Two of Ten stopped. "The _Orion_ is our home."

One of Ten stopped and faced Two of Ten. Six of Ten also stopped. One of Ten spoke. "You are Borg. You have no home but the Collective."

"We are Borg?" asked Two of Ten. "But we are Ba…Ba…Bajoran. The _Orion_ is our home. We are Starfleet."

"You are Borg," stated One of Ten again.

"No, we are Bajoran. We…I am Rikka…Rikka Nolean is my des…my name. I am Lt. Rikka Nolean of Starfleet."

"You are Borg, and you must comply," ordered One of Ten.

"We are Romulan," said Six of Ten looking at its feet. "Our ship was the _Terabon._ I am Trindak, Centurion Trindak of the Romulan Military."

"I have a sister," said Two of Ten. "Her name is Samae. Samae is my sister. I love my sister."

Six of Ten looked up from his feet. "The Borg attacked my ship. They assimilated me, my captain, my crew. I hate the Borg."

One of Ten now turned to Six of Ten. "You are Borg. You will comply. You must kill Starfleet."

Two of Ten could handle it no more. She lifted her heavy mechanical arm and smashed the skull of One of Ten. Six of Ten looked at her but did nothing. Rikka said to him. "I will not comply. I will not kill Starfleet. I will defend the _Orion_. Will you help me, Trindak?"

Six of Ten nodded. "I also will not comply, Nolean. I will kill Borg. I will avenge the _Terabon_."

Rikka Nolean continued walking. Trindak followed her. Together they found a cluster of Borg drones and began to fight.

* * *

Lindsey sat forward in her seat. "What just happened?"

"What do you mean, Captain?" asked Frank.

"That last volley from the cube. Did it hit us?"

"No, they missed."

"They missed?!" asked Lindsey. "Since when do the Borg miss. All credit to our helmswoman, but we were not engaging in any evasive maneuvers. Yet, they missed?"

"You think…?" asked Frank.

Lindsey turned to Rikka Samae. "Ensign, compare the current efficiency and accuracy of the Borg cube with five minutes ago." Lindsey waited for the Ensign.

"Captain, Borg efficiency has dropped drastically." The _Orion_ shook. "But they can still fight.

Lindsey barely withheld a whoop of joy. She turned back to the viewscreen. "Sub-Lieutenant, face us directly towards the cube. Grant, keep up the phaser fire. Once you find a phaser frequency that works stick with it. I doubt the Borg will be doing anymore adapting."

"We make a pretty easy target, Captain," said Sub-Lt. Ta'Sem. "Even for disconnected drones."

"We just need to present a harder profile. Roll the ship, clockwise. Ensign open a channel to the stardrive." Ens. Rikka gave Lindsey the nod, and Lindsey spoke. "Adm. Janeway. We have successfully introduced a virus into the Borg cube. The cube and its drones are disconnected from their Collective. They are individuals. We have no idea how long it will take for the Collective to adapt, so I suggest we take advantage."

"Excellence, Captain," replied Janeway. "Where's Seven?"

"Our away team is still on the cube, and our transporters are down. Ens. Rikka will send you the frequency of their transporter arm bands." Lindsey continued, "We still have drones here on the saucer. They are disconnected from their hive, but they are still dangerous…"

* * *

"…The best way may be to reconnect the stardrive and the saucer," suggested Capt. Lander.

"Agreed," said Janeway. "Make it so, Commander."

Henry stood from his chair and made his way to the tactical station, speaking in his combadge. "Lt. Mackwel, organize the security teams." Henry reached tactical and spoke to the Andorian officer. "Lt. Cmdr. Thrim, take a team to secure the main bridge. Once you are there, relive Lt. Cmdr. Grant and let our security chief do his normal job."

"Yes, sir." Thrim yielded his tactical station to another officer.

"Commander," said Adm. Janeway. "Let's put this ship back together."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Sir, the saucer's automated docking systems are offline," reported Ryan.

"Looks like you get to do your manual docking after all, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," said Ryan with a smile.

Apparently, it was too much for the ensign at navigation "You're going to perform a manual docking, under fire, while the saucer is spinning!"

"Aah," said Ryan in a dismissive voice. "Spinning saucer is easy. We match their spin, then it's like no one is spinning, except the stars around us. Being under fire will make this interesting. The real trouble is coordinating with the saucer. Lt. Luke Ryan, helmsman, to Sub-Lt. Ta'Sem, really to put this ship back together?"

"Ready when you are, Lieutenant," said the Romulan woman from the main bridge. "Stabilizing our spin into a slow roll."

"Commander?" Ryan looked back at Henry.

"Alright, Ryan, bring us up behind the saucer." Henry stood over Ryan's shoulder as they came up behind the saucer which was holding position yet spinning on its longitudinal axis, all the while still firing phasers at the Borg cube. Green Borg warheads were flying by. Even with the Borg's decreased accuracy it was still dangerous. "Cut impulse. Let our inertia bring us in. Compensate with thrusters. Match the saucer's roll."

Ryan cut power to the impulse engines, and the stardrive coasted towards the rear of the saucer. Ryan then used thrusters to roll the stardrive. The stars could be seen spinning around the viewscreen, but the saucer appeared to stop rolling.

A green Borg projectile struck the saucer. "Hit!" came Ta'Sem's voice. "Compensating with thrusters."

Recognizing the precision required, Henry decided to remove himself from the operation and trust his helmsman. "Mr. Ryan, proceed at your disgression. Sub-Lt. Ta'Sem, Lt. Ryan has the lead. You answer to him."

"Yes, Commander," said the Romulan Sub-Lieutenant.

"I got this, Commander," said Ryan.

Henry watched as there was another near miss by the Borg. He sat in his chair and looked at Adm. Janeway. She was watching with great attention. The Borg scored another hit. Henry could see the saucer shake from the impact. He could also see the thrusters fire as Ta'Sem tried to keep the saucer steady. Henry was growing nervous. "Lieutenant, this is taking a while. Increase speed at your discretion."

"I am having a difficult time keeping this thing stable," said Ta'Sem. "If you want to speed this up, I suggest that I come to you. It will be easier for me if this thing is moving."

"Agreed," said Ryan. "Reverse thrusters, Sub-Lieutenant. Easy now."

"Reconnecting while both ships are flying towards each other!" said the Ensign at navigation.

"Silence, Ensign!" ordered Henry as the saucer grew larger in the viewscreen. Another green projectile flew by harmlessly. "All stations, prepare for reconnection with the saucer."

"Steady as she goes, Sub-Lieutenant," said Ryan. "Leave the major corrections to me." Ta'Sem verbalized her acknowledgement. The top of the battle bridge viewer was now entirely filled with the saucer. "Extending locking clamps," stated Ryan. "Reconnection in five, four, three, two, one." The _Orion_ shook as its two part came together. "Locking up the clamps and securing the airlocks." Ryan turned towards the command chairs. "Commander, Admiral, reconnection of the _Orion_ is successful."

"Beautiful work, Lieutenant," said Janeway. "I only wish my former helmsman, Tom Paris, was here to see that."

Henry began issuing orders. "Thrim and Mackwel, secure the main bridge. Sub-Lt. Ta'Sem transfer helm control to the battle bridge…"

"Excuse me, Commander," came Lindsey's voice. "I believe I am the captain of the _Orion_ ; assuming the Admiral's approval."

"You have command, Captain," said Janeway.

"Transferring helm control to the battle bridge. Operations should also be with you. We will keep tactical up here at the main bridge. If we lose commlink, all controls are to revert to the battle bridge."

"Copy that, Captain," said Henry. "And my apologies."

"Any news on our away team, Captain?" asked Janeway.

"I was hoping you had news," replied Lindsey. "Did not the transporter frequencies I gave you work?"

"They haven't," said Janeway. "The transporter chief has also not been able to pick up their bio signatures."

"And she won't be able to," said Lindsey. "They will read as Borg, just as I and my bridge crew do."

"I need everyone to keep working on it," said Janeway, and Henry could see the concern on her face. Henry went to work with determination. Janeway had helped him get Lindsey back. Now he was going to do everything he could to get the Admiral's friend back.

* * *

Richard fired another shot an approaching drone, dropping it to the deck plating. Seven of Nine did likewise. What the drones had lost in efficiency and communication, they had gained in tenacity and anger. It was like the whole, uncoordinated hive was after the two of them.

"Did you try the armbands again?" asked Richard.

"Yes, we may still be too deep in the cube." Seven tried working Richard's armband. "Or maybe the Borg have blocked Federation transporter frequencies."

"Either way, we are running out of time." The cube shook violently. Richard reach out to steady Seven. Her coordination didn't seem at its best. Richard wondered if the Borg woman's lack of regeneration was finally getting to her. "If the Borg don't kill us soon, it will be our friends when they destroy this cube."

"We need to get closer to the outer shell," suggested Seven.

"And risk being hit by friendly fire?" asked Richard.

"Do you have an alternative suggestion?" asked Seven, but Richard had no reply.

* * *

"Can we confirm what Adm. Janeway told us?" asked Cmdr. Donatra to her second in command.

"Yes, Commander. The Borg's performance has fallen drastically. They appear to be in disarray."

Donatra nodded her head. She had learned a long time ago to never underestimate the Federation and Starfleet. They were more crafty and clever than most Romulans would admit. And they had an annoying knack for finding a way to succeed. She smiled as she remembered Picard crashing his own ship into Shinzon's _Scimitar_.

"Commander, a transmission from the _Orion_." Donatra gave her communications officer a nod.

"Attention Reman and Romulan ships," spoke Adm. Janeway as she appeared on the _Valdore's_ viewer. "We still have two crewmen on board the Borg cube. They are the ones responsible for weakening the Borg. We need more time to locate them and extract them."

"Open a channel," ordered Donatra. When the comms officer nodded Donatra spoke. "Adm. Janeway, we will be forever indebted to those brave and heroic members of your crew. But I cannot give you extra time. Can you guarantee that these Borg will not regain their connection to the Collective? We are still in Romulan space, Admiral, and I cannot allow a single drone to survive. They must be destroyed now."

"We may only need a few minutes," said Janeway.

"I am sorry, Admiral, I truly am. And I am sorry for your losses. But my answer is the same." Janeway gave a sad nod and cut the transmission, which left Donatra pondering another peculiar Federation behavior: their unwillingness to leave a man behind.

Donatra turned to her comm officer. "Signal the fleet and give the order: All available ships, attack and destroy the Borg cube. I want every drone accounted for. We are taking no quarter."

* * *

Ser'rek Thrim came onto the bridge and reported. "Captain, the Borg drones have been driven away from the bridge. Lt. Mackwel is securing the rest of the ship."

"Good," said Lindsey absent mindedly.

"Cmdr. Hickensen ordered me to relive Lt. Cmdr. Grant, so that he can coordinate the security forces. Do you object?"

"No, Commander. Take tactical. Frank, secure entire ship." Lindsey stood from her chair and looked out the viewer at the Romulan and Reman ships pommeling the Borg cube. Large chucks of the cube were now floating free in space. "Have we tried everything to reach Chef and Seven?"

"Lt. Cmdr. O'Hara-Grant and every engineer she can spare are working on it," said Rikka Samae.

"Was the Admiral able to convince our friends to put a pause on their assault?" asked Lindsey.

"No," said Thrim. "Both Donatra and Xiomek are bent on destroying the cube."

Ta'Sem suddenly stood up. "Captain, I may have a way to rescue them. But I would need access to your communications."

"Communications?" Lindsey felt uncertain about letting the Tal Shiar operative have anymore access to her ship than she had already allowed. But one look back at the dissolving Borg cube and the memory of her friend overpowered her uncertainty. "Come here, Sub-Lieutenant." Lindsey led the Romulan woman to communications station. "Use this station."

Ta'Sem entered in a strange comm frequency and then spoke. "This is Sub-Lt. Ta'Sem of the Tal Shiar in a priory message for Cmdr. Donatra. Two allies on an enemy vessel in distress."

* * *

Richard fired his disruptor pistol at another drone. As it fell, he saw three more drones coming towards Seven of Nine. She tried to take them down, but one of them grabbed her left arm and pulled her to the ground. Matthews shot and killed the other two drones. By the time he got to Seven, her attacker had tried to smash her head in with its mechanical arm, but Seven had dodged the blow. Richard managed to pull the drone off of her and was ready to engage in a wrestling match.

At that moment, a violent fireball erupted further down the corridor. The fire was immediately snuffed when the air began to flow out of the corridor through the new breach in the hull. The drone that had attacked Seven lost its footing and followed the air out into the vacuum of space. Richard braced himself against a bulkhead. He saw Seven grabbed another bulkhead with her strong Borg left arm. Then with her free hand Seven pushed the button that closed the emergency hatch. The door slid close, and the atmosphere stabilized.

"That was too close," said Richard as he helped Seven down the corridor. He allowed her to sit down for a moment. "I think we have to face the truth. Either these things don't work," he said, fiddling with his transporter armband. "Or there is no one left on the _Orion_ to rescue us."

"I know," said Seven. But she shook off Richard's arm and stood up. "But if there is one thing I have learned from Adm. Janeway, it is to never give up."

"Alright," Richard stood up. "We keep trying. But if we don't make it, I am at peace. We did well, Miss. Annika 'Seven of Nine' Hansen."

"Yes, we did, Mr. Richard 'Chef' Matthews." After sharing a mutual nod, Seven led Richard around another corridor. Suddenly Seven stopped. "What is that sound, that beeping? It is not Borg."

Richard looked around for a second before he realized that something he was carrying was emitting the beeping noise. He searched his pocket and pulled out the statuette that Ta'Sem had given him. The small figure of the woman now had a blinking red light flashing from her feet. "What the…"

Richard felt a transporter lock, and his surroundings vanished. When he rematerialized, it was not where he expected. The transporter room was certainly not Starfleet. A Romulan man approached. "Commander, transport was successful. We have two humans on board."

"Excellent, Centurion." spoke the voice of a Romulan woman. "Make sure our guests feel welcomed until we can return them to their people. We owe them a great deal."

"Of course, Commander," replied the Centurion. He then approached them. "Ens. Annika Hansen, Mr. Richard Matthews, welcome on board the _Valdore_ , Cmdr. Donatra's flagship."

Richard looked down on at the Romulan statue in his hand. "The goddess of luck?"

The Centurion looked at it. "Romulans don't depend on luck. They make their own."

Richard smiled. "In this case, I am glad they do."

* * *

"This is Cmdr. Donatra. We have your people safely on board the _Valdore_ , Admiral."

Lindsey heard Janeway's voice. "We are indebted to you for rescuing our people."

"They saved all our lives. We were just returning the favor. We will return them to you once the area is secure." The viewscreen returned to the forward image of the destroyed Borg cube. The _Resistant_ as well as Romulan and Reman ships were sorting through the wreckage. Lindsey turned towards Ta'Sem.

"Excellent work, Sub-Lieutenant. You will have to tell me how you planted a transmitter on Mr. Matthews."

"He thought it was a good luck charm," replied Ta'Sem. "I am just glad it worked." Lindsey looked at the Romulan woman with curiosity. She seemed genuinely relived that Seven and Chef had survived. Lindsey wondered why, although she could guess.

Ser'rek Thrim reported, "Captain, Cmdr. Grant reports that the Borg drones are being subdued. Without their ability to work together or adapt, they are not much of a challenge."

"Any word on assimilate crewmen?" asked Rikka Samae.

"No, Ensign," said Thrim.

"Captain, I am requesting permission to leave the bridge," asked Rikka.

"For what reason?"

"I want to look for Nolean. She's my sister, Captain."

"Go. Find Grant and have him help. I believe Nolean was a friend of his."

"Yes, Captain. And thank you." Rikka left the bridge.

Lindsey let out a sigh of relief. The Borg were defeated, her ship was retaken, and her people were safe. Now it was time to turn her attention to lesser matters. "Ta'Prim." Lindsey turned, but the Vulcan woman wasn't where she expected her. "Ta'Prim?" Lindsey looked all over, but the Section 31 agent was nowhere to be seen.

"Did you say 'Ta'Prim'?" asked Ser'rek, who had at one time worked closely with the Vulcan spy.

"Yes, she was on the _Orion_. She helped us retake the bridge, even if she was an obstacle at first. Let us not speak more of her."

"Ah, the mysterious, emotional Vulcan," said Ta'Sem. "I suppose the Tal Shiar will have to be content with not figuring out that mystery."

"Sub-Lieutenant, you have earned my respect and my limited trust," said Lindsey. "Let's not push it too far." Ta'Sem responded only with a sly smile. Lindsey allowed herself to smile in return. The Borg were defeated, and the day was won. Now she could go back to worrying only about the Romulans.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 _Captain's log; supplemental: After the battle with the Borg, we have retreated to an uninhabited star system in the Romulan Empire for repairs and to recuperate. I ordered everyone who was on the saucer to get some rest, and then followed that order myself, leaving the_ Orion _in the capable hands of Mr. Hickensen. Now for my first real sleep in four days._

Lindsey's door chimed. She groaned and rolled over in her bed. Then her combadge chirped. "Cmdr. Hickensen to Capt. Lander. Rise and shine."

Lindsey groaned again has she hit the badge on her nightstand. "Give me a second. I will be up soon. Wait for me in my sitting room." Lindsey rolled out of bed and put on her slippers. She tried to straighten her tangled hair, but it was a hopeless task. She hadn't taken the time to clean up last night. She was so tired that she barely made the effort to change from her uniform into her comfortable pajama pants and shirt.

Lindsey exited her bedroom and entered the common room of her quarters. Standing there in full uniform was Henry Hickensen. "Why did you wake me, Commander?"

"Just following your orders. Even if it means waking a cranky captain.

"Why didn't you challenge those orders?"

"You didn't give me a chance. You told me over combadge that I have command of the ship and to wake you at 0900 hours. Well, it's 0900."

"Fantastic," Lindsey looked at Henry's pristine red uniform and thought of her own appearance. "Bet you didn't think you would find me like this," Lindsey indicated her pajamas and messy hair.

"Actually, this is exactly how I expected to find you."

"I have certainly looked nicer," said Lindsey.

"Cleaner, more official, yes," replied Henry. "But I have rarely found you to be more beautiful." Henry came forward and embraced Lindsey in a hug. Lindsey put her arms around Henry, squeezed him tight, and buried her head into his shoulder. It was entirely inappropriate: a captain wearing only her pajamas embracing her first officer, but there was nowhere else Lindsey would rather be.

After the long embrace, Henry pulled back a bit, still with his hands on her shoulders, and gave Lindsey a long kiss on the lips. "I thought I had lost you…again. You have got to stop doing that to me."

Lindsey suddenly pulled away and sat down. "Henry, what are we doing? How can we make this work?"

"I'm sorry," said Henry. "Perhaps, seeing you outside your uniform made me think differently." Henry shook his head. "No, that's not it. It was losing you again that caused me to again reevaluate my priorities. Last time you disappeared I decided that a relationship was worth the risk of illicit fraternizing. This time, I've realized that being with you is more important than any career. It is I that should be taking off my uniform."

"No! We've talked about this!" said Lindsey emphatically. "You have a promising Starfleet career in front of you! You can't throw away your uniform and rank pips…" Lindsey for the first time since the battle had ended looked at Henry's rank pips: three solid pips. "Henry, you've been promoted."

"Yes. Janeway did it. But she told me that my rank was already approved by Starfleet. She also told me that your promotion to captain is also approved. Your career is advancing far more than mine."

"No, no, you don't understand." Lindsey grabbed Henry by the shoulders. "Henry, we're the same rank."

"Well, yes, technically: full commanders. But you are still the captain of the ship, and thus still my superior."

"No, I'm not." Henry looked confused, but Lindsey explained. "I was listed 'Missing in Action.' You and Janeway took command of the _Orion_. I spend four days MIA, with little sleep, dodging Borg drones. On top of that, I had Borg nanoprobes pumped through my veins. I can't return to duty until I undergo a full medical evaluation. Until then, Adm. Janeway is the acting captain, and I am just Commander Lindsey Lander."

"That is some thin reasoning, Lindsey. Starfleet will never go for it, or if they do you will never become captain."

"They won't like it; but maybe, just maybe they will go for it. Especially if we act fast."

"What did you have in mind?"

"We go to Adm. Janeway. If we can persuade her, then this might work."

"I don't know, Lindsey. What if…"

"Henry, you once told me not that long ago, 'If I could marry you right now, I would.' Do you still feel that way?"

Henry's face turned very serious. After only a moment's pause, he reached out, took Lindsey's right hand, and dropped to one knee. "Lindsey Loraine Lander, will you marry me?"

"Yes, Henry Samuel Hickensen, I will marry you."

* * *

Lt. T'Sel entered the personal quarters of Lts. Chaput and Mikkelson. "Lieutenants, you wished to see me."

"Yes," said Lt. Selina Chaput-Mikkelson. The young human woman was holding in her arms a sleeping newborn baby. Next to her was her husband, Lt. Johnathan Mikkelson. "Please join us."

T'Sel sat on the couch in the common room of the family's quarters. "Have you decided on a name yet?"

"Yes," said Selina.

"Thomas Robert Mikkelson," said Johnathan.

"Is he named after Dr. Thomas Randle?" T'Sel raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, he is. It seemed fitting. Dr. Randle gave his life so that this child could live," said Johnathan. "This way we will always remember his sacrifice, and when little Thomas here is old enough, we will tell him the story of his namesake who saved his life."

"I see," said T'Sel, even though she found it to be a very emotionally driven decision. "And the name Robert?"

"An ancestor of mine, a commodore in Starfleet," said Selina. Selina shifted as the baby squirmed in his sleep. "Dr. Randle is not the only one we need to thank for saving us." Selina looked away from her baby and up at T'Sel. "It was you who carried me and little Thomas off the saucer."

"You were in danger, and I was in a position to help. It was logical."

"Should that make us less grateful?" asked Selina.

"Perhaps not," said T'Sel. She was still struggling to understand human emotions.

"But we did not ask you here to merely express our thankfulness," said Johnathan. "We have something we wish to ask of you."

"What can I do for you?" asked T'Sel. "If I am able to help, then I will."

Selina and Johnathan smiled at each other then looked back at T'Sel. Johnathan said, "We would like you to be little Thomas' godmother."

"I do not understand," said T'Sel. "I am neither a deity nor a mother to this child."

Selina laughed. "I suppose that is confusing. The term godmother is an old term on Earth used during the time when the monotheistic religions were common. It was given to a person who had been asked by parents to assist them in the raising of their child, particularly in the handing on of their religious beliefs. Today it represents a person that the parents want as a role model for their child. And we want you to be that role model to little Thomas here." Selina gave the sleeping infant a gentle bounce. The boy reached out his arms as if to grab some invisible object that only he could see in his dreams.

T'Sel was amazed at the illogical human tendency to continue to use antiquated words that had long out grown their original meaning. "I am not sure that I am a good candidate for such a task. I have long struggled to understand human traditions and customs."

"Perhaps we want you because you're a Vulcan," said Johnathan.

"Explain." T'Sel was now curious.

"Do you believed that Vulcan logic could be beneficial to other species, humans in particular?" asked Johnathan.

"Yes, I do. Many species could benefit from the teachings of Surak."

"Is it not logical that we would wish our son to have a role model that is well versed in Surak's teachings?"

"Yes, that would be logical." said T'Sel. "You see me as the logical choice for godmother?"

"Yes, logical, but also emotional," said Johnathan. "We want our child to know the woman who saved his life, and we want him to be exposed to the same logic that led that woman to make such a decision."

"So…" said Selina. "Do you accept?"

T'Sel thought about it a bit. Their reasoning was, like most human reasoning, an odd mixture of logic and emotion. T'Sel did see the value in exposing a young human child to the teachings of Surak. She could also see how being in close relationship with Mikkelson's could help T'Sel understand humans better. The Captain had encouraged her to spend more time with other species. This could help T'Sel become a better leader of a mixed species team. It would require her to take a certain responsibility for the child, but it was the parents' wish. "I will accept this request of yours to be the godmother of your child."

The emotional reaction of both parents was obvious as looks of joy spread across their faces. Also, at that moment the baby woke up and began gently fusing. Selina attended to little Thomas for a bit before looking up at T'Sel. "Would you like to hold him?"

"I am indifferent in the matter," answered T'Sel.

"Go ahead," said Selina. "I am told that human babies bond by touch. And I would like you to hold Thomas."

"If that is your wish." T'Sel received the human baby in her arms. He fused a bit, but T'Sel imitated Selina's gentle bouncing motions, and soon he fell back to sleep. "You have a beautiful and healthy young boy," said T'Sel. "I am sure he will grow up to be a fine human being."

Selina reached forward and gave T'Sel a hug, which was awkward both because of the child she was holding and the fact that T'Sel was not accustom to such emotional displays. "Thank you, T'Sel. And welcome to our family."

* * *

"How are you feeling, Seven?" asked Janeway.

"I am feeling much better, now that I have regenerated," answered Seven of Nine. Janeway looked at her friend. She did indeed look better. "I feel well enough to return to duty, Admiral."

"Not so fast, Seven," Janeway stood from her desk. She had moved back into the _Orion's_ VIP quarters on the saucer. The Borg had entered the room and accessed the computer terminal, but the rest of it must had been irrelevant. "You cannot return to duty until you've undergone a full medical evaluation. We don't know what toll your lack of sleep, nutrition, and regeneration has taken on your body and mind."

"With all due respect, Admiral, there is no doctor on board this ship or in this fleet that understands my unique physiology."

Janeway smiled. "That's why I already called the Doctor. He will meet us once we return to Federation space."

"I look forward to seeing the Doctor again." Seven had a thoughtful expression on her face. "I also know another EMH that would also like to meet him. I shall arrange it." Janeway smiled at the thought of the Doctor meeting an adoring holographic fan. The Doctor certainly enjoyed the popularity he has gained amongst Federation holograms.

"How long before we reach Federation space?" asked Seven.

"We will depart in five days."

"Five days," said Seven disappointedly. "If I may ask, what am I to do for five days?"

Janeway put her hand on Seven's shoulder. "Relax, Seven. Enjoy yourself. Spend time with the crew of the _Orion_. I may even challenge you to a game of velocity when dealing with Romulans wears me down."

Seven nodded. "There is a holographic program that Capt. Lander told me about. Perhaps I will try it."

The door to Janeway's room chimed. "Enter." Janeway saw both Capt. Lander and Cmdr. Hickensen enter the room. "Capt. Lander, please come in. And you too, Mr. Hickensen."

Seven turned and acknowledged Lander. "Captain, it is good to see you well and rested."

"It is good to see you as well, Seven…Ensign." Lander quickly corrected herself. Janeway gave Seven an intrigued look. How familiar did Lander and Seven become while together on the saucer? "Admiral, if we are not interrupting, Mr. Hickensen and I have a request to make in private."

"Of course, Captain. Seven, please excuse us. And try to enjoy yourself," Janeway added.

"I will, Admiral." Seven turned and left the room, giving Lander a respectful nod on her way out.

"Well, Captain, you seem to have earned the respect of Seven of Nine. Not an easy thing to do. Trust me, I know." Janeway indicated the chairs in front of her desk, as she sat behind it. "I trust that you are resting up after your ordeal, Captain." Janeway was deliberately addressing Lander as 'Captain' rather than by her rank of commander. Lander had earned that privilege, and Janeway no longer thought of the _Orion_ as her ship, but as Lander's.

"Yes, Admiral. Although it will take a couple of days before I am fully recovered."

"I understand," said Janeway. "So, what can I do for the two of you."

Both officers fell silent. After a bit, Hickensen turned towards Lander. "Best way to enter cold water is to jump in."

"Right," said Lander. Janeway felt some apprehension. She could not imagine what this request could be. Was the ship damaged? Was Lander not well?

"Admiral, we would like you to preside at our wedding."

"What?!" was the first word out of Janeway's mouth. Whatever Janeway had imagined the request was, this was not it. "You wish to be married…to each other?"

"Yes," said Hickensen. "And as fleet flag officer and acting captain of the _Orion_ , we would like you to preside at the ceremony."

"Absolutely not!" Janeway said. "A captain and her first officer? It is a violation of the Starfleet code of conduct. I cannot condone this, must less endorse it by presiding at the wedding."

"We think we may have a way around the Starfleet code of conduct," said Hickensen.

"I doubt that. You are likely already in violation. How long have you been engaging in illicit fraternization, Miss. Lander?"

Lander bowed her head. "Two years."

"The entire time you've been captain of the _Orion_?" asked Janeway. "It that why you chose Mr. Hickensen as your first officer?"

"No, Admiral, it wasn't," said Lander defensively. "I chose Henry as my first officer because he was the man for the job. It was only after a few months that we discovered our feelings for each other.

"Also, Admiral," Lindsey continued. "We were very careful this time. We had been together once before; a less than serious relationship back in the Academy. We needed to know that this wasn't just some flare up of an old flame. And we have been sure for a couple of months now that we wish to be together. Only we didn't know how we could accomplish that given Starfleet's rules. That is until now."

"I suppose this is when you tell me about this loophole you've found," said Janeway.

"A few days ago, Admiral, you promoted me to the full rank of commander," said Hickensen.

"Yes, I did," Janeway looked back and forth between Hickensen and Lander. As she looked at the three gold rank pips on each of their collars, she could see where they were going with this. "But even if you two are the same rank, Mr. Hickensen, Lander still out ranks you in virtue of being the captain of the ship."

"But I'm not the captain," said Lander. "Not at the moment. After my ordeal on the saucer, I am not able to return to my duty until I have been cleared by a full medical examination. Until that happens, you, Admiral, are the acting captain of the _Orion_ , and I am just Cmdr. Lindsey Lander."

"That is a very, very thin loophole, Commander."

"But it is the only one we have," said Lander with an honesty that cut through Janeway's anger. "If what Henry tells me is true, then there is a promotion to captain waiting for me in Federation space. Once that happens this is all over. Henry and I can never be together while I sit in the captain's chair. This is our only window of opportunity."

Janeway shook her head. "I'm sorry, Lindsey. But I can't do this. And I have to put a reprimand for illicit fraternization on both your records."

"It wouldn't be my first," said Lander. "Although, it has been a long time."

"But it will be my last," added Hickensen. Something about the way he said it made Janeway nervous. It did not help that Lander turned towards him and pleaded.

"Henry, don't."

"I have to. It's the only way," he turned towards Janeway and began to take off his rank pips. "Adm. Janeway, I hereby submit my resignation of the rank of commander. Please accept." He set the three gold pips on the desk.

Janeway stared at the young man. "Why should I? I gave you that rank. Why did you accept it if you were just going to throw it away?"

"I didn't know if Lindsey was alive at the time, and it was my duty to my ship and my crew. Without its captain, the _Orion_ needed its first officer. Now we have the Captain back. Between her and you, the _Orion_ is in good hands. It doesn't need me anymore."

"Starfleet needs you," countered Janeway. "We have still not recovered from all the officers we lost in the Dominion War. Starfleet needs good officers. I did not promote you for one mission only."

"I'm sorry, Admiral," said Hickensen. "But I have decided that I am going to be with Lindsey. If I can't do that as an officer, then I will do it as a civilian."

"Is this an ultimatum, Commander?! Are you trying to force my hand?"

"No, Admiral. If there is an ultimatum, then it is on me," replied Hickensen in a calm voice. "I do not expect you to violate Starfleet principles on my behalf. I am simply doing what I need to do."

"Stop," said Janeway. "I need to think." She got up and began to pace behind the desk. An idea had come to her head and she was trying to make it work. "Starfleet will not like your loophole, but they may allow it. What they really couldn't abide by is a married couple as both captain and first officer. A captain needs a first officer who is removed from her; able to think independently from her; challenge her, if need be. They will never allow a husband and wife to share those roles. But if Cmdr. Hickensen was not the first officer…"

"Admiral, what are you saying?" asked Lander.

Janeway stopped pacing and faced the couple. "Mr. Hickensen, if you are willing to throw away your career for the sake of being with Miss. Lander, does that mean you also willing to let your career take a hit while staying intact?"

"Yes," said Hickensen cautiously.

"Capt. Lander." Janeway turned toward her. "If you and Mr. Hickensen wish to wed, he may continue to serve as one of your officers, but he cannot be your first officer. You will need to find someone else. Starfleet will not be happy. They will want a solution to your problem immediately. That will not allow you much time to search for a replacement first officer. Do you have someone who is qualified, willing, and available to take the position."

Without hesitation Lander said, "Lt. Cmdr. Ser'rek Thrim. He is currently my tactical officer, but he was once the first officer of the _Woodrow Wilson_. He is more than capable."

"Wasn't he demoted a rank?" asked Janeway.

"Yes," replied Lander. "He was demoted because he could not separate his rage against the Romulans from his duty as a Starfleet officer. He blames the Romulans for the destruction of the _Wilson_ , and he long lived in hatred of them. I believed he could overcome his rage, and I gave him a second chance. And he has proven me to be correct. I cannot think of a greater test than having him fight side by side with Romulans, his sworn enemy, as he just did against the Borg. Not once in either of the two battles did he show any sign of losing control of his anger."

Janeway nodded as she remembered the way the Andorian officer composed himself during the battles with the Borg cube. Janeway looked at the young couple in front of her. She could see that they were dead serious about being wed. "Are you two sure about this?"

Lander answered, "Yes, Admiral. We have been thinking about this for months, trying to find a way to make it work. We want to spend the rest of our lives together, have children, and raise a family on this ship."

"Cmdr. Hickensen, I do not accept your resignation. Pick up your rank pips immediately." Janeway then let her stern face fall. "I'll do it."

"You'll do it?" asked Lander in surprise.

"Yes, Lindsey. I'll do it." Janeway shook her head. "I'll catch hell for it, and so will the two of you. But I'll do it." Janeway stood up and walked around the desk. "Congratulations."

Lander could barely hold back her excitement. "Requesting permission to speak freely, Admiral."

"Why stop now?" said Janeway.

Lander threw her arms around her. Not knowing what else to do, Janeway received the hug. "Thank you, Admiral, thank you." The way Lander was squeezing Janeway revealed just how genuinely thankful she was. And Janeway, despite still being upset at the couple's secret relationship, was actually happy for them.

* * *

The transport was completed and Ta'Sem found herself again on the _Orion_. This time she and Sub-Cmdr. Matech stood next to Cmdr. Donatra herself.

"Welcome on board the _Orion_ , Commander," said Adm. Janeway, who stood at the base of the platform to greet them. With the Admiral were Capt. Lander, Cmdr. Hickensen, Lt. Cmdr. Thrim, and Lt. Cmdr. Grant. Ta'Sem noted the lack of security officers. A show of trust?

"Thank you, Admiral," replied Donatra as she stepped down from the transporter platform. "My companions have come to retrieve their luggage from their earlier stay on your ship. They will also take Tribune Slavak's things."

"What about Rudal's things?" asked Adm. Janeway.

"He said to burn them," replied Donatra. "Apparently they are tainted. I hope you are not too insulted."

"I expected nothing less," said Adm. Janeway.

Donatra spoke again as they walked down the corridors. "Admiral, I came to thank you and your crew in person for the efforts you made in helping us defeat the Borg. It would have cost the Romulan Empire a great deal without your help." Ta'Sem nearly smiled at the understatement. There was great uncertainty in Ta'Sem's mind as to whether the combined Romulan and Reman fleets would have been able to protect their home world from the Borg. But not even the Federation-friendly Donatra could admit that in front of a Starfleet Admiral.

Donatra stopped walking and turned to Capt. Lander. "And I want to thank you, Capt. Lander. Your reputation for getting out of tight situations was understated on Romulus."

"Thank you, Commander," replied the Captain graciously. Ta'Sem caught Lander's eye as it passed her, and she gave the human woman an encouraging nod. Ta'Sem cautioned herself against growing too familiar with humans. It was quite possible that they would be enemies in the future. But Ta'Sem found them to be fascinating. They had values not unlike the Vulcans, but they also possessed the ability to be as cunning as a Romulan. And there was one human in particular that Ta'Sem found most fascinating.

Donatra was still talking. "I also wish to express my sympathy for your losses, Admiral. I tried to organize a joint memorial service, but the warhawks would not have Starfleet officers honored next to Romulans. I am truly sorry, but my condolences…and those that Tal'Aura wishes me to extend to you, will have to suffice."

"I understand, Commander. Please, join me and my captains for a refreshment." Admiral Janeway led Donatra into a room full of high-ranking Starfleet officers from all five ships. Ta'Sem was left outside with Sub-Cmdr. Matech.

"Sub-Lieutenant, get our things. I will get Slavak's luggage," ordered Matech.

"Yes, sir."

"This way, Sub-Commander," said the Andorian Thrim. He gave a nod to Cmdr. Grant who came to Ta'Sem.

"This way, Sub-Lieutenant."

Ta'Sem walked beside the human security officer. "I thought you were the chief of security? Why do you take orders from the Andorian?"

"First of all, he is the second officer of the ship, thus outranks me," answered Grant. "Secondly, I am technically on medical leave. With all the bodily strain of the past few days, as well as the Borg technology inside of me, I haven't yet been cleared for duty."

"I understand," replied Ta'Sem. "There are some who wanted to quarantine me. Others wanted to drain my blood, so they could study the Borg nanoprobes." Ta'Sem looked curiously at Grant. "If you are on leave, why be my escort?"

"A courtesy. You provided invaluable help on the _Orion_ , not the least of which was operating the helm during the relinking of the saucer and the stardrive. You have earned our thanks. Yet, you also told us your true affiliation."

"You don't trust me," said Ta'Sem in a statement, not a question.

"We want to show our appreciation without giving you free reign on this ship. Therefore, I requested to escort you. I think I can keep an eye on you without being overbearing."

"I feel appreciated," responded Ta'Sem. The two of them arrived at the quarters that Ta'Sem and Matech shared. Ta'Sem first grabbed Matech's things, then the things from her room. They both packed light, and everything fit on one small anti-grav cart.

As they were leaving, Ta'Sem asked, "Is the rest of our team on medical leave? I saw the Captain meeting Cmdr. Donatra."

"She is also on medical leave, but like me has been granted temporary permission to return to duty for Donatra's sake. Ens. Rikka, Ens. Hansen, and Chef are lying low."

"And Ens. Ta'Prim?"

"The Vulcan scientist from the _Hercules_?" asked Grant. "I don't know." Ta'Sem could tell that Grant's carefree answer was hiding something. As a member of the Tal Shiar, Ta'Sem really should dig deeper into the matter of the mysterious Vulcan woman, but frankly she didn't care.

"Commander, could we take the long way back to the transporter pad? Maybe by the kitchen?"

"Chef is not in the kitchen. He is in his quarters," Grant looked at Ta'Sem with a cunning eye. "I assume that is where you wish to go."

"Yes," said Ta'Sem, reminding herself not to underestimate this particular human. Grant led her to a civilian crew quarters. The door chimed and slid open for them.

"Chef, it's Frank. You have a visitor."

Richard Matthews walked up to the door. "Sub-Lieutenant, what a surprise! Please come in."

"Thank you, Richard. Unfortunately, I only have a little time. Commander, may we have a moment."

Grant cast a look in Richard's direction. Richard gave him a slight nod, and Grant returned it with a knowing expression. This only added to Ta'Sem's assessment that Lt. Cmdr. Grant was a very observant and cunning human being. Grant left the room.

"What brings you to my humble abode, Sub-Lieutenant?" said Richard.

"I wanted," Ta'Sem looked down. "I wanted to sample your cooking one more time."

Richard laughed. "They all want the cooking. Please sit down." Ta'Sem sat a small table, as Richard opened a small contraption and pulled out a circular pan. "Apple pie: A filling made from some Earth fruit in between two bread crusts. Freshly baked."

"Freshly replicated." Ta'Sem pointed to the box he pulled the pie from.

"That's not a replicator. It is an oven." Richard cut the pie in half, then he cut a slice and set it on a plate in front of Ta'Sem.

"You have an oven in your personal quarters?"

"When the Captain loves your cooking, you find that a lot more of your personal requests are accepted. Your timing is perfect. I didn't know when you were coming. I was afraid the pie wouldn't be done."

Ta'Sem looked up at Richard. "When? How did you know I was coming?"

"I didn't. But I had a hunch," said Richard. "Try it."

Ta'Sem used the fork that Richard handed her and took a bite of the pie. The warm, sweet filling filled Ta'Sem's mouth while the crust provided a sweetness of its own. "Wow, sweet."

"Really? I hardly added any sugar. I know Vulcans don't handle sucrose so well. I wasn't sure how it would affect a Romulan."

"The Vulcans are just afraid of losing their precious logic. I am not." Ta'Sem took another big bite and savored the flavor. Then followed an awkward silence. Ta'Sem finally spoke. "I want to thank you for saving my life. I was not a member of your crew or your Federation. You had no reason to risk yourself for my sake."

"Do I need a reason?" replied Richard. "You know that I value life. If I am in the position to save a life, I will do all that I can."

"So, I am just another one in a long list of lives you've saved?"

"You are not a statistic. I saved your life because it was worth saving, and I would do it again." Richard looked hard at Ta'Sem. "You gave me the transporter beacon. And the Captain tells me that you asked Donatra to transport me and Ens. Hansen off the cube. So, if I may ask, why did you save my life?"

Ta'Sem looked back at Richard. "I felt I owed you. A debt to be paid for rescuing me."

"So, I am just a number on a ledger for you?"

Ta'Sem yielded. "I didn't want to see you die. I guess I grew some slight affection for you." Ta'Sem set down her empty plate and stood up. "I have never met anyone like you. And I think the Federation…the galaxy would be a little less without you. You became more than just a name on an intelligence report. You became…important to me."

Ta'Sem pulled out an object from her bag. "I wanted to give this to you." She held out the same small figurine that she had given him before. "I removed the transporter beacon and all of its other electronics. I will not be offended if you have Grant scan it."

Richard stood up, and Ta'Sem placed the statue in his hand. "For good luck?"

"To remember me by," replied Ta'Sem. Then she stood on her tip toes and gave Richard a kiss on the lips. Richard returned the kiss for a moment until they came to a silent agreement to stop. "My superiors will be waiting for me," said Ta'Sem. She walked towards the door, but before she left, she turned and said, "If, on the rare chance, you find yourself on Romulus, look me up."

"On the rare chance, that I will do," replied Richard. "If you're in the Federation, you should do the same."

Ta'Sem gave him a mischievous smile. "Maybe, I will." With that Ta'Sem walked away. She found herself wishing for peace between Romulus and the Federation, if only so she could see Richard again.

* * *

"You, sir, are supposed to be resting," said Alivia to her husband as he returned to their quarters. "And here I find out you are back on security duty."

Frank loved his wife and her attitude. "It was just one duty. Now I can go back to resting," answered Frank. "How are things on the saucer?"

"Don't change the topic. What was so important that you defied the Admiral's orders?"

"First of all, I had the Admiral's permission." Grant looked around for a place to sit, only to remember that he hadn't moved his favorite chair from his old quarters yet. He settled for a couch "Romulan Cmdr. Donatra came on board for one more visit before we leave for Federation space."

"And you wanted to be the chief of security when she arrived."

"No," replied Frank. "Thrim can handle that. I requested permission to escort a member of her crew."

"The sub-lieutenant?" asked Alivia. "Should I be worried that my husband has fallen for a mysterious woman? You do have an eye for the exotic, after all." Alivia pointed to her green skin.

"No, it is not me you have to worry about. But she merits an extra pair of eyes."

Alivia suddenly sat down next to Frank, put her arm around him, and rested her head on his chest. "Alivia, I'm okay," said Frank trying to reassure his wife.

"I know," replied Alivia. "But there was a time when I really thought you were gone, and that I would never be able to be in your arms again. Please allow me this weakness."

"Anytime." Frank put his arms around her. When she let go, Frank asked, "Is it okay to change the subject now?"

"Yes," said Alivia. "The saucer is a complete mess. There are Borg gismos everywhere. I have been told that without the cube, they shouldn't come back online, but I'm not sure. I am just happy that the stardrive, Engineering, and the warp core were spared. At least we can get to Federation space. There Ens. Hansen and a few other Borg experts can help us purge the _Orion_." Alivia then asked, "How is Ens. Hansen and the others? Are they on leave as well?"

"Yes, they are: Hansen, Chef, the Captain, and Samae."

"Samae?" asked Alivia. "Nolean's sister?"

"Yes," said Frank.

"Oh my gosh, I forgot about her. She must be going through a terrible time."

"I imagine so."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know," said Frank.

"You don't know?!" said Alivia. "I swear, Frank, sometimes you are the most sensitive man, other times you are clueless." Alivia sat up. "Computer, where is Ens. Rikka Samae."

"Ens. Rikka Samae is in the morgue."

"She shouldn't be there alone," said Frank coming to his feet.

"I'm coming with you," said Alivia.

* * *

The door slid open. Samae looked over to see Lt. Cmdrs. Grant and O'Hara enter the ship's morgue. They approached her together, and Cmdr. Grant asked, "Ensign, are you alright?"

"No, Commander, I am not," said Samae. She looked back down at the body before her. It was covered in Borg implants, but underneath it was Nolean, the big sister that Samae had lost. Samae felt as though a part of her would always remain empty. She felt Cmdr. Grant's reassuring arm around her shoulders and Cmdr. O'Hara's hand on top of hers. Samae remembered at that moment that these were Nolean's friends, and that she was not alone in her grief.

After a long silence Grant spoked again. "They say that she was killed by another Borg drone, that she was fighting. In her last moments she was trying to defend the ship. She was freed from the Collective. She was herself at the end."

Samae sniffed and wiped her ridged nose. "That is a comfort; a small one, but a still comfort."

"Do you wish to be alone, Ensign?" asked O'Hara. "We could leave."

"No, Commander. Your presence is comforting. It reminds me that Nolean had friends on this ship. Besides, the Bajoran religion believes the pah or the soul leaves the body at death. As Kai Meresa said, 'what remains after death is but a shell; a sign that the pah has begun its final journey to the Prophets.' Nolean is not here; she is with the Prophets."

"Then why are you here, Samae?" asked Grant.

"I need to see this. I need to accept this," said Samae.

"Will she be buried on Bajor?" asked O'Hara.

"Yes," answered Samae. "After we return to Federation space, I will try to arrange transport for me and her body to Bajor."

"Don't worry about the transportation arrangements. I will take care of it," said Grant.

"That is not necessary, Commander."

"You misunderstand us, Ensign," said Alivia. "Frank and I intend to travel to Bajor with you, to attend Nolean's funeral."

"I will talk to the Captain about borrowing a shuttle," added Grant. "Nolean was our friend, and we want to be there for her. Also, I do not believe that she would want you to be alone at this time."

Samae wiped her nose again and turned to Grant and O'Hara with a slight smile on her face. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Nolean would want a full traditional Bajoran funeral, and that is what I plan on giving her. Are you sure you wish to sit through the Bajoran death chant? It is a two hour long event."

"For Nolean, absolutely," said Grant.

"I appreciate your offer," said Samae. "But I plan on using my bereavement leave to be with family. I am sure you would wish to return to the _Orion_ right after the funeral."

O'Hara waved off the Samae's objection. "Starfleet still owes us some time off since they interrupted our honeymoon. Nolean has told me much about Bajor's natural beauty."

"I hear the Masila province has some romantic locations," said Grant. "I think it will be a way for the two of us to be together and honor Nolean at the same time."

"I will take that over Risa any day," added O'Hara.

"So, Ensign," said Grant. "May we accompany you to Bajor?"

"Yes, Commanders, you may." Then Samae broke out in weeping. Before she could stop herself, she reached out and embraced the couple. Grant and O'Hara together held the weeping young Bajoran, and Samae had never felt such caring love from anyone outside her family. "Thank you so much. Thank you."

* * *

"I think she will be alright," said Alivia as they returned to their quarters. She and Frank had just escorted Samae out of the morgue and back to her quarters.

"Are you applying for ship's counselor?" asked Frank in jest as their door slid open.

"No, I stay with fixing the ship. I don't need to deal with…hello, what is this?" Alivia spotted a folded note on their coffee table.

"Was that here before?" asked Frank.

"No, it wasn't." Alivia could tell that the security officer in Frank was bothered by the fact that someone had entered their quarters. Alivia on the other hand was more inclined to assume no harm was intended. Alivia picked up the note and broke its adhesive seal. "It is a hand-written note." She opened it up and gasped.

"What? What is it?" asked Frank.

"You're not going to believe it."

"Alivia, don't kid with me," said Frank, positively antsy.

"It's a wedding invitation."

* * *

Lindsey looked at herself in the mirror. She wore a simple but elegantly laced white dress. The dress had two white shoulder straps, an ankle long skirt, complete with a small dragging train, and lace covering her shoulders and arms. Laying across the back of the couch was a thin veil of white lace. Lindsey was waiting for her maid of honor/attendant, Selina, to help her pin the veil into her not yet styled hair. Selina was currently nursing her new born child in Lindsey's bedroom.

Lindsey looked at herself again. She couldn't believe this was really happening. She was getting married! She had long desired it, but it had come so quickly. She knew that her parents would have a difficult time forgiving her for not waiting for them to be able to attend, but given the circumstances Lindsey knew it had to be now. If she and Henry waited their window of opportunity might close.

Lindsey was trying to adjust her hair on her own, when she heard the sound of a transporter beam right in her own sitting room. Lindsey whirled around to see a Vulcan woman standing just across the room from her. "Ta'Prim!" Lindsey reached to where her belt would have been, but of course she was not carrying a phaser clipped to her wedding dress. Her night stand was too far away, and Lindsey knew that she could not run fast enough to get the weapon concealed in its drawer before the Vulcan.

"Relax, Capt. Lander, I am not here to hurt you in any way," said Ta'Prim.

"So, what does Section 31 want from me this time?" demanded Lindsey, wondering whether she would want Selina to walk into this confrontation or not. It may be best if the new mother and her baby remained in the bedroom.

"I would not know. I am not here on behalf of Section 31," said Ta'Prim in a level voice. "I suppose congratulations are in order." Ta'Prim pointed at the wedding dress.

"Why are you here, Ta'Prim?" Lindsey had no desire to discuss her wedding with the Vulcan spy.

Ta'Prim lowered her head. Lindsey became alert. Ta'Prim had proved to be an emotionally unstable Vulcan. Lindsey had no idea what to expect. "I wanted you to know that I am taking your advice."

"What?"

"I said, I have decided to take your advice. I am returning to Vulcan. If there is a master on Vulcan willing to take me in as a student, then I sit at his or her feet and try to control my emotions and regain my logic."

"Are you taking all of my advice?" prodded Lindsey.

"I assume you are referring to when you told me to leave Section 31. Yes, I am leaving that organization, at least until I regain my logic. Then perhaps, I can reevaluate. But I do not know what my future will be. Perhaps I will remain on Vulcan."

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Lindsey

Ta'Prim again bowed her head as if in shame. "Because I have an overpowering emotion, and it demanded I come here." Ta'Prim looked up at Lindsey. "Gratitude, I am extremely grateful. I was your enemy, and you had compassion on me. You helped me to see logic again. I came here because I needed to thank you. It is illogical, but I needed to do it."

"You were not my enemy, Ta'Prim," said Lindsey. "You were lost. And what is lost may be found. I too was lost once. I was on a path to losing my Starfleet career. But Capt. Taylor took me under her wing and guided me. I wouldn't be the captain I am today without her." Lindsey stepped toward Ta'Prim and put her hand on the woman's shoulder. "In you I saw someone that could be found again. I only hope the masters back on Vulcan see that same logic."

"I hope so too," said Ta'Prim as she removed Lindsey's arm and stepped back. "We may never see each other again, Captain, so let me say:" Ta'Prim raised her left hand with a split between her middle and ring finger. "Thank you, Lindsey Lander. Congratulations on your wedding. May you and your spouse live long and prosper."

"Peace and long life to you, Ta'Prim," replied Lindsey mirroring the hand gesture. Ta'Prim tapped her combadge twice and transported out of the room.

"Who were you talking to?" asked Selina as she came out of the bedroom holding baby Thomas. Lindsey had just lowered her hand a moment earlier.

"No one, Selina, no one. Can you help me with my veil?"

* * *

Henry nervously fidgeted with the cuff of his formal whites. Next to him was Henry' best man Frank, who gave him a gentle elbow to the side. "Relax, Mr. Bridegroom. It will be wonderful." Henry allowed Frank's words to comfort him. The man had, after all, just had the same experience about a month ago.

Next to Frank was Johnathan Mikkelson, Henry's other groomsman. Across from him was Lindsey's second bridesmaid, Alivia O'Hara-Grant. Frank, Johnathan, and Alivia all wore their formal yellow and red uniforms. Between them was Adm. Janeway in her formal whites.

The conference room table had been removed and chairs were arranged to form a sort of aisle down the middle. In those chairs were many of the senior staff and close friends of Henry and Lindsey's. Chef was there, as was Luke Ryan and Ser'rek Thrim. Lt. T'Sel was there cradling the sleeping infant, Thomas Mikkelson, since his parents were both in the wedding. Capt. Erika Benteen had come from the _Lakota_ as had Vlad. Ens. Annika Hansen sat towards the back as a guest of Janeway's. It was a small wedding, which went contrary to both Henry and Lindsey's wishes, but in the current situation it was quite nice. There would be a larger ship wide reception once they had returned to Federation space, and then another one on Earth for their families.

The doors opened, and Henry's heart stopped for a moment. In walked Lindsey in a beautiful, lacy white dress. Henry almost didn't even notice Selina following Lindsey, caring for her train. Lindsey's face was covered with a thin veil, but Henry could see her beautiful smile beneath it. Lindsey came next to Henry and extended her hand. Henry took her hand and led her before the Admiral.

"Friends, fellow members of Starfleet," began Adm. Janeway. "It is my pleasure and honor as captain and flagofficer to preside at this ceremony uniting Henry Samuel Hickensen and Lindsey Lorraine Lander together in matrimony."

Lindsey squeezed Henry's hand. The excitement flowed in his own blood. He knew that this day was two years in its coming, but it would inaugurate a whole new life henceforth. Even with all the uncertainty that would come, with Starfleet's reaction, consequences to both their careers, Henry was absolutely certain at this moment that he was doing the right thing.

* * *

 _Flagofficer's log; stardate 58118.3: The_ Orion's _repairs have gone well. Most of the Borg technology has been removed, thanks to the efforts of Seven of Nine. Seven will remain on board the_ Orion _for a while longer as chief engineer Lt. Cmdr. O'Hara and her husband have just returned from Bajor and will want to review her work._

 _I, on the other hand, am preparing to depart the_ Orion _. The_ Orion _and its crew have exceeded my expectations, and my time here has been enlightening. They are a tough crew, and a tightly knit family. Like_ Voyager _they possess what they need to overcome any variety of obstacles. And I know I leave them in good hands._

 _I just have one more ceremony over which I am to preside before I leave this ship._

 _Conclude Flagofficer's log._

Lindsey stood, waiting in the living room of her parents' house. Finally, Henry came, wearing a formal yellow uniform. "We're going to be late," said Lindsey.

"This uniform is a bit tight," said Henry as he adjusted his waistline a bit. "I will have to have it adjusted."

"Yellow looks good on you," said Lindsey.

"Does it now?" asked Henry "Or are you just saying that because I am your husband?"

"I don't know. Would you say that I am beautiful just because I am you wife?"

Henry held Lindsey and said, "You are beautiful, and I am lucky to be your husband." He then bent down and kissed her on the lips. Lindsey allowed herself to fully enjoy the moment. No longer was there any sense of guilt, nor any fear of discovery. Henry was her husband, and she was his wife. For the past two weeks they had been on Earth spending time with their parents and enjoying their honeymoon. There was no longer anything holding them back in expressing their love.

Almost nothing holding them back. Lindsey broke off the kiss. "You know, we still cannot do this while on duty and in front of the crew."

"Why do you think I am doing it now?" answered Henry. "We are husband and wife now. Sure, we have to be discreet while acting publicly as officers, but we don't have to hide our relationship anymore. I can be discreet because I know that we are together, now and always."

Lindsey kissed him on the lips one more time. Then she straighten her own uniform and tapped her combadge. "Lander to _Orion,_ two to beam up."

The transporter pulled her and Henry out of her parents' house and on to the transporter platform of the _Orion_. Behind the counsel was Alivia O'Hara-Grant, and in front of Lindsey was Ser'rek Thrim. The Andorian spoke, "Commander, Admiral Janeway is waiting for you in the Orion's Club."

"Take me there, Commander," said Lindsey as she looked at Ser'rek's new red uniform complete with three solid gold rank pips. She was glad to see his promotion had been approved. Ser'rek led Lindsey with a formal step out of the transporter room. Henry and Alivia followed behind. Crewmen and women standing at attention lined the hallway at regular intervals. As Lindsey walked passed them, they fell in line behind her.

The doors of the Orion's Club opened. The off-duty lounge hand been changed into a formal setting. Lindsey noticed that the statue of Orion had been repaired and the scorched deck plating near the entrance replaced. Ser'rek led Lindsey through a 'hallway' of officers at attention. At the end of the line was the _Orion's_ senior staff. Ser'rek came to the end and presented Lindsey before a woman wearing an admiral's cut of a red formal uniform. Ser'rek announced, "Attention." Everyone pivoted and face forward. Ser'rek, Henry, and Alivia took their places at the front of the gathering.

"Commander Lindsey Lander," said Janeway. "Starfleet has recognized your exemplary job of commanding the _Orion_. Thus, Starfleet Command has seen fit to promote you to the full rank of Captain." Janeway reached forward and pinned the new rank pip next to Lindsey's other three, giving her a total of four gold pips, the rank of a captain. Two years of questions, worries, and fears fell off her shoulders. Lindsey finally had Starfleet's nod of approval.

Lindsey turned around and faced the applauding crew. She saw Henry in the front; Ser'rek, her new first officer; and the rest of her senior staff: Johnathan and Selina, Frank and Alivia, Luke Ryan, and T'Sel. Also present was Capt. Erika Benteen, Lindsey's supervisor for the past two years. With her was Vladimir Kustov, a friend and former crewmate. On a viewscreen was Capt. Picard, her previous supervisor, who was not able to be there in person but wanted to attend. Over his shoulder Lindsey could see Cmdr. Worf.

When Lindsey turned to her left, she saw a set of framed pictures: Cmdr. Gonzales, Lt. Cmdr. MacDonald, and Capt. Taylor; Lindsey's mentors from the original _Orion_. Also, there was Dr. Thomas Randle's picture. She wished that they had lived to see this day. She owed them everything. She silently thanked them for their support.

The applause dwindled, and Ser'rek announced again. "Attention to Orders."

Janeway picked up a data pad and read, "From Starfleet Command to Capt. Lindsey Lander, Stardate: 58118.3. As of this date you are requested and required to take command of the USS _Orion_ NCC 26532-A. Signed Vice Admiral Kathryn Janeway." Janeway set down the data pad and spoke in a vague upward direction. "Computer, transfer all commander codes to Capt. Lindsey Lander, voice authorization: Janeway, sigma 2."

The computer beeped. "Transfer complete. The USS _Orion_ now under the command of Capt. Lindsey Lander.

Janeway announced, "I hereby remove my flag from this ship, and yield command to its captain."

Lindsey stood before Janeway. "I relieve you, sir."

Janeway replied, "I stand relieved. Congratulations, Captain."

There was a second round of applause. Lindsey stood and took it in for a while before ordering the group to be at ease. Then she gave Adm. Janeway a hug. She could see Picard clapping on the viewscreen. Erika Benteen came and embraced her, as did Henry and several others.

Lindsey looked out at the gathering. This was her ship; and this was her crew, her family. It was her honor to serve the USS _Orion_.

* * *

Coming soon! _Star Trek Orion IV, The Stellar Sprint_

With its high-profile missions completed, the _Orion_ begins to settle into mediocrity. But when a weapons dealer tries to sell one of Shinzon's thalaron weapons to the highest bidder, three of the _Orion's_ crew are called upon to don their undercover identities and command the _Stellar Sprint_ in a chase that begins in the Romulan Star Empire and ends at _Deep Space Nine_.

Featuring several characters from _Star Trek: Deep Space Nine_.


End file.
